


Caught me by surprise

by atir8891



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon-typical language, Drunkenness, Flirting, Fluff, Ian Gallagher and Mandy Milkovich are Best Friends, Internalized Homophobia, It's not angsty I promise, M/M, Mechanic Mickey Milkovich, Mild Sexual Content, POV Ian Gallagher, POV Mickey Milkovich, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Texting, and doing a poor job of it, fake dating but it's not what you think, faking heterosexuality, ian gallagher is a good friend, mickey milkovich is a sexy mf, neither of them are closeted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 48,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26413120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atir8891/pseuds/atir8891
Summary: When his best friend Mandy asks him to do her a weird favor, Ian isn't convinced he should accept. It's a ridiculous plan anyway, and things are bound to get even more complicated once he finds himself face to face with Mandy's intriguing brother, Mickey.Excerpt:From his blue eyes, to his full lips, to the stark contrast between pale skin and soft-looking black hair, this guy looked absolutely gorgeous. He was studying Ian closely, with an intense look that Ian couldn’t quite decipher, but that definitely took his breath away. When the guy started chewing lightly on his bottom lip, gaze still fixed on him, Ian had to remind himself he should probably avert his eyes quickly. He couldn’t give away the way that sight made him feel. He was, after all, “playing it straight” tonight. He groaned internally at the thought.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mandy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 149
Kudos: 235





	1. Caught in a lie

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally share this :) I plan to keep this relatively fun & fluffy, no real angst to speak of. This first chapter has a little bit of background, it's just Ian and Mandy at the beginning until Mickey and the others come in.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

The doors of the L were about to close, he seriously had to move his ass if he was going to make it. And he damn well _was_ going to make it. His bosses at the firm were pissy enough as it was, without adding his lateness to the list of complaints.

Taking advantage of his long legs, Ian Gallagher sprinted the last few feet separating him from his destination and quickly stepped inside the train, mere seconds before the doors closed behind him.

He bent forwards, hands on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. He really hoped the way he was sweating profusely wouldn’t end up ruining his far too expensive suit, and that his appearance wouldn’t be that disheveled once he reached the office. So much of his job was about appearances, after all.

He was a glorified secretary, really. But he worked at a big marketing firm downtown, so he couldn’t exactly turn up in jeans and a tee-shirt. And he did rock the hell out of this suit, if he said so himself.

Still panting from exertion, he made his way to an empty seat, careful not to lose his balance and not bump too much into other train-riders as he attempted to reach it.

As soon as he was seated, Ian sighed in relief, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. In the end, he did like his job -- or the opportunities it would afford in the future, anyway -- and he wasn’t _completely_ dreading the day ahead. It was going to be boring, and he’d have to deal with demanding bosses and snotty coworkers, but he did at least have an actual friend there. A friend who always seemed to make his days at work a little brighter.

When Ian first met Mandy, she seemed… well, if not downright hostile, certainly not warm and cuddly either. Ian realized in time that she simply had no interest in making friends at the place where they worked, exasperated as she was with the insufferable stick-up-their-ass attitude that everyone there seemed to exhibit.

Ian felt much the same about the people they worked with, but Mandy was clearly different. By the time they started exchanging actual conversations rather than just snappy back-and-forths and sarcastic pleasantries, she had definitely warmed to him. And Ian grew very fond of her, of her take-no-shit attitude, her genuineness and the softer side she showed people once you were in her inner circle. They got along great at work, and they regularly met up for drinks after, half the time ending up in gay bars where she would drunkenly try to help Ian get laid.

They had a lot of fun together. She had become his best friend.

He never really had a best friend before, people always seeming to move in and out of his life without leaving a meaningful mark, without any lasting bond having been formed. That was true for friendships and for the handful of guys he had very casually dated. The only people who he had long-standing relationships with were his siblings, until Mandy. So, over time, she became family too. He let her into his inner circle just like she had done, he supposed.

At work, it was like they were part of their own little clique. Always hanging out together at lunch and during breaks, talking shit about their coworkers and their bosses to help the day move along faster and be a little less boring.

They were different from everyone else there. Maybe it was because they were both Southside, even though Ian had moved out of the old neighborhood when he was 15. He still visited frequently and kept in touch with all of his siblings, but he had always felt like he needed to get out of there one way or another, to make something of himself. His current career was merely a stepping stone, he wanted an actual managerial position one day. Despite the difficulties, he knew he could count on his determination to reach his ambitious goals. He was sure of it.

*

As he stepped off the train and began his short walk to work, he thought about the day ahead. He was excited to catch up with Mandy. She was supposed to go on a third date with a guy last night (Steven? Shane? Ian couldn’t keep up with Mandy’s frantic dating habits, if he was honest) and he was anxious to live vicariously through her for a while. Just because Ian couldn’t seem to form any deeper connection with guys and hadn’t been on a real date in over a year, that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least be excited for his friend and share in her dating success. He genuinely wanted her to be happy. She deserved it.

He stepped through the doors of the office and saw Mandy immediately. She seemed in a hurry, a stack of folders held tightly in her arms as she walked quickly, heels clacking on the expensive floors. She smiled warmly as soon as she spotted him. Ian made his way to her, moving to walk beside her, matching her pace.

“Hey, Mands. This busy already?”

She sighed, her expression turning into a frown. “Ugh, I know. I just fucking got here five minutes ago, but goddamn Henderson immediately got on my case, of fucking course. I need to go file these for him _asap_ , or he’ll get a fucking stroke, apparently.”

Ian chuckled to himself. Mandy really was a refreshing presence in this stuffy office full of stuck-up idiots, and he loved her for it.

“Well, we’ll have to catch up later, then,” Ian told Mandy with a hopeful smile.

She shot him back a happy smile of her own. “Can’t wait.” She paused and dropped her gaze to the folders in her arms. “Honestly… the day has just started and I’m already jonesing for my lunch break, so I can actually talk to a real independent-thinking human being for a change. Thank God you work here too, or I’d have probably murdered someone by now.”

Ian laughed heartily that time, knowing exactly how she felt. He himself would have at the very least seriously considered quitting after the first few months working in this place, if it hadn't been for Mandy.

“Same goes for me.” He reined in his laughter as one of their haughty co-workers walked past them, leveling them with a stern look. “Meet you in the break room at one as usual?” he asked Mandy, lowering his voice slightly.

She nodded. “See you then.” She grinned, moving to head towards one of the offices, when she seemed to remember something. “Oh, by the way, I kinda need to talk to you about something. Well, more like ask a favor, actually.” She looked uncharacteristically hesitant, lowering her gaze and avoiding eye-contact with Ian.

“Something to do with your date last night?” he asked curiously. She had promised to spill all the details today, after all.

Her eyes widened for a second, then she met his gaze again, though she still seemed a bit jumpy.

“Yeah, kinda. I do have news about that, and this is sort of related, but it’s... Anyway, I’ll explain everything later, I really need to go take care of this bullshit now.”

She was back to her brash, confident self, and it made Ian smile again. “I won’t keep you. Wouldn’t want dear Henderson to get a stroke, after all.”

She smirked devilishly. “Of course, we don’t want that, do we?” Her smile returned warm as she said goodbye to Ian. “See you at one, then. Don’t be late.”

“Never. See you then.”

He watched her go, his own smile morphing into a puzzled expression as he reflected on her change in demeanor and on what she had said. She mentioned asking him for a favor? Something _kinda_ related to her date with her boyfriend-of-the-week?

He was intrigued, that’s for sure. But the way she had seemed so tentative and wouldn’t meet his eyes didn’t sit too well with him. Was the favor something that big? He would do pretty much anything for Mandy, within reason of course, but he was still a little antsy at the thought of what she’d ask of him.

Well, no point in stressing over it. He’d find out soon enough, and anyway, he trusted Mandy. If she needed him to do something, it was probably something important, and he would try his damndest to do whatever he could to help his best friend.

***

The day seemed to drag on more than usual, and by the time 1 pm rolled around, Ian was more than ready to just pack up and go home. But no. After an hour-long lunch break, he would still have to return to his desk and spend five more hellish hours doing mindless work for his pieces-of-shit bosses at this piece-of-shit firm.

He was exhausted. Thank god he could at least enjoy his lunch break with Mandy. That put a smile on his face. He had gone from being slightly worried over what she wanted to talk to him about, to feeling like anything breaking the dullness of his working hours would be a welcome and much needed distraction.

When Ian entered the break room, Mandy was already sitting at a table, her sandwich in front of her and her phone in hand, though she didn’t seem all that interested in what was on the screen. She looked up and smiled when he approached, but it was a tired kind of smile, the busy morning weighing as heavily on her as it was on Ian, clearly.

“Hey,” she greeted. “Can’t believe we finally get an hour to ourselves at least, the bosses have been busting everybody’s balls more than usual today.”

Ian sighed tiredly. “Yeah I know, Paulson has been giving me the most tedious tasks I’ve ever had to do in this place all morning. I mean-- data entry is always gonna be boring as fuck, but this is borderline torture for fuck’s sakes.”

Mandy chuckled in agreement and finally put her phone away, ready to start eating her sandwich.

Ian took his opportunity to get to the juicy part of their conversation. “So come on, spill. You got me all curious earlier… what is this mysterious favor you need to ask me and how the hell is it related to your date with what’s-his-name?”

Mandy lowered her gaze, just like she had done earlier. She clearly was in no rush to have this conversation.

“Ah, right. Well, first of all, the date didn’t fucking happen.”

A frown appeared on her forehead, and Ian could hear the anger in her tone. He’d been midway to taking a bite of his own lunch but was now left with his mouth agape in surprise.

“What? How come?”

“‘Cause that fucker canceled on me. For the third time this week, by the way. But that’s not the worst of it, oh no… So, we were texting, and I kept pressing him for information, maybe threatening him with physical harm a little bit, and after that he finally caved. Told me he’s been seeing his ex again this past week and that he’s really hoping they’ll get back together.”

“What?! Motherfucker.” Ian shook his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, and if I hadn’t kept pushing, who knows when he would’ve told me... probably keep stringing me along until he was sure the ex wouldn’t kick him to the curb like she did last time. Ah well, another one bites the dust. Good fucking riddance.” She was chewing on her lip, looking down at the sandwich in her hands, clearly not having that much of an appetite at the moment.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Mands. I mean, you’re definitely better off without that asshole, but I know how much you were hoping you’d found a decent guy this time.”

“Yeah…” She sighed. “And it’s not even just the fact that I want that for myself, because _excuse me_ for wanting to find a man who means it when he says he’s looking for something serious and who’s actually gonna stick around for longer than a fucking week so we can get to know each other. On top of that, I’m being basically bullied by my own damn family over this! They make fun of me all the time because I’m always falling for absolute dickheads, and of course they always insist on meeting them, so they can shit on me for my shit taste in men even more. Thank god I didn’t introduce them to fucking Sean, at least.”

“Fuck, Sean! That’s what his name was!” Mandy sent him a deathly glare and he immediately reined in the enthusiasm. “Uh, sorry. But I mean, that shit’s normal, Mands. Families are always like that, they exist to torture us and criticize our every decision. You should hear what my family has to say about the fact that I haven’t dated anyone for the past year. Just because they all seem to be in relationships at the moment, they think they have it all figured out.” He frowned, the familiar irritation at his siblings’ bullshit clouding his thoughts for a moment.

“I know, and I know they’re only looking out for me at the end of the day, but they’re just so damn _annoying_ about it! Like, it becomes the main topic of conversation any time we hang out, and when I end up bringing any of my boyfriends around, they just start grilling them mercilessly, trying like hell to find the weak spot. I just wish for once I had someone actually nice to introduce to them…” She trailed off and dropped her gaze to the table, seemingly lost in thought.

Ian felt bad for his friend, but he didn’t actually know what to say to make it better, apart from the usual platitudes. “I promise, Mands, when you least expect it you’ll find yourself some really great guy, and then you’ll fucking show them! You’ll see, this perfect man will just turn up and fucking whisk you off your feet like in one of those cheesy rom-coms we’re always making fun of.”

He grinned at her, trying to cheer her up. It’s not like he didn’t believe it might happen to her. She was beautiful, smart, funny and kind. Any guy would be lucky to call her his girlfriend. Ian just knew it wasn’t always that easy.

Mandy wasn’t smiling back at him, instead she was avoiding eye-contact again, like earlier that morning, looking unsure and maybe a bit embarrassed. “Yeah. Or…” She sighed. “I was thinking maybe I could speed things up, y’know. At least when it comes to shutting them up.”

She looked up at Ian tentatively and he couldn’t have been more confused. “What? How are you gonna do that?”

Mandy gave him a half smile, keeping eye-contact this time. “Well, I could maybe get somebody to pretend to be my boyfriend... You know, someone who could make me look good, fool them into thinking I finally found a decent guy who’s not gonna bail on me after the first few hook-ups.”

That sounded like it might seriously backfire, but Ian supposed it could work, temporarily anyway. If she was really that desperate to get them off her case. She could maybe coach the guy on what to say so that he would pass their test. But who could possibly agree to be her fake boyfriend in order to trick her family?

“Yeah, I guess... Who would you ask, though?”

She raised her eyebrows, looking him straight in the eyes, offering no other response.

Ian frowned and raised his own eyebrows, by now certain that his confusion must be painted all over his face.

The corner of Mandy’s mouth raised up to form a smirk, her head tilting to the side.

It was like they were caught in a staring competition that Ian didn’t remember agreeing to. The cogs in his brain were working non-stop, trying to find the answer to his questions, until realization suddenly hit and he widened his eyes until they stung a little.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” He whisper-shouted. There were other people in the vicinity, or he would have properly shouted.

“Ian, hear me out-”

“You do know I’m gay, right?”

“Yes, asshole, I do know you’re gay. I watched you drunkenly grind your ass on multiple guys’ crotches not three nights ago at the White Swallow, remember?”

He did remember. Man, that had been a good night.

Anyway, back to the point.

“Then what the fuck are you asking me, here? To pretend to be straight in front of your whole family? Play it up like we’re all lovey-dovey, somehow make them believe I’m attracted to _a woman_?”

“First of all, you don’t need to sound _that_ disgusted. I get it, alright? It’s fucked up. But I swear you wouldn’t have to play it up that much. They were ultra-critical of the guys I introduced to them who were all over me the whole time, so I promise, you could just be how you normally are with me. Like… kisses on the cheek and light touches on the arm, that’s all it would be.”

Ian was looking very much unconvinced. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was a ridiculous idea, and yeah, it was _very_ fucked up.

But Mandy wasn’t backing down that easy. “And plus, I know I haven’t told you much about my family, but they’re probably nothing like you’re thinking. No mom and dad, it’s just my two brothers and my cousin Sandy, who’ll probably bring her girlfriend with her. Trust me, not one of them would have a single problem with you being gay... except, you know, I need them to actually believe you’re into me.”

She smirked, trying to lift the mood, but Ian was still glaring at her, his arms folded and his posture indicating he was having none of this.

Her smile faded a bit, but she continued. “And we’re not talking about some fancy dinner where you’re gonna ‘meet the parents’ at some uppity restaurant or an equally pompous family home. It’s just gonna be a couple of beers, probably down at the Alibi, with a few of my relatives who are all about the same age as us.”

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Ian grumbled. “And plus, now you’re tryna make them sound all harmless, but five minutes ago you were going on and on about how annoying and critical they are, and how hard they’ve grilled all your past boyfriends! I’m not getting mixed up in that, Mandy.”

“Yeah, but if I’m asking you it’s ‘cause I think you can handle it, okay? True, they can be really aggressive with the questioning, but I thought we could just go with the truth, mostly. There wouldn’t be that much lying involved, in the end. You know… we met how we met, then at one point we’ve gotten close and started hanging out outside of work more and more often. The only real lie would be about us having sex. Piece of cake.”

Ian levelled her with a deathly glare and her face fell a bit. But she clearly wasn’t giving up, despite all of his protests.

“And like I said, it’ll happen at a loud, well-frequented bar. There’ll be plenty of distractions, plus after a few beers and shots they’re bound to forget their own name, let alone stay focused enough to continue grilling you like that. And if at any point you feel like you wanna leave, we can just leave. Promise.”

Ian sighed, frankly feeling exhausted with this conversation. “I don’t know, Mands. Sounds like a recipe for fucking disaster, honestly, and I’m just not sure I’m up for it.”

Mandy chewed on her lips for a few moments. “Could be a way to use the acting skills you picked up in those classes last month.”

Ian quickly raised his head to look at her in disbelief. “I took _five_ lessons at the community college, that doesn’t mean I have _acting skills_ all of a sudden! It was just something to pass the time!”

“Well, this could be, too! We could have some fun with it, make fucking fools of my brothers and my cousin. I promise you, once you meet them, you’ll wanna wipe the smug grins off their faces, too.”

Mandy was looking at him with a tentative smile, trying to coax one out of him, too. Ian didn’t know what to think, anymore. He definitely hadn’t expected this kind of proposition from his friend, and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. His head was starting to hurt a bit, to be perfectly honest.

He studied Mandy’s face, the scowl dropping from his own after a while. “I’m still not saying yes.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I know it’s like... a lot.”

Ian gave her his best _you’re not kidding_ expression.

“Just think about it, alright? It’s not like it’s a time-sensitive issue or anything. And you can totally say no to me, I swear I won’t hold it against you. It’d be really bitchy of me to do that.”

“You’re right, it would.” Ian finally cracked a real smile, and she reciprocated happily, some of the tension dissipating between them.

“Alright, I’m gonna get back to it,” she announced, standing from the table and picking up her unfinished sandwich. “Text you later to know if you wanna hang out tonight after work, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded mechanically, already lost in thought before she even left the room.

She’d asked him to think about it, and that he certainly would, for his friend’s sake. Even though at the moment he was still reeling from the sheer ridiculousness of her idea, and all of his instincts were screaming at him to just say no and be done with it.

***

In the end, over two weeks went by before Ian reached a decision on what to do about the whole thing. Mandy was good about not bringing up the subject whenever they hung out, allowing him space, which he was grateful for. It didn’t make anything any clearer in his head about what to do, but at least it didn’t put extra pressure on him.

He could see she was on edge, though. Sometimes he would catch her frowning at her phone and sighing, and she looked generally preoccupied and tense even in the moments where she was supposed to be out having fun and relaxing. Her carefree attitude seemed to be gone, replaced with constant second-guessing and ever present self-doubt.

Ian knew how much Mandy genuinely wanted to find a partner, someone she could share her life with and who would treat her right, for once. The latest disappointments in that department seemed to have been particularly disheartening for her, like she was starting to believe she really was doomed to only attract losers and assholes and cheaters for the rest of her life.

This was one of the main factors that helped him in his decision. He really wanted to cheer up his friend, if he could do anything about it. Which he could. She had seemed so excited about this absurd plan, and Ian knew it wouldn’t solve anything long-term, but maybe it would give her some sort of confidence boost to trick her brothers and her cousin like this and put them back in their place. Ian still wasn’t completely sure how that would work, but he wanted to help, he knew that much.

The other thing was, how bad could it be? It was true, he could have a bit of fun pretending to be someone else -- just like in his acting classes, as Mandy had reminded him -- and he wasn’t hurting anyone, was he? No one’s feelings would be hurt, really the only one who was risking anything was Mandy herself. If her family found out it was all a trick and Ian was actually her gay best friend, she would be made the butt of the joke from here until the end of time. She would never be able to live it down.

Ian, on the other hand, was risking nothing. Even if it blew up in their faces, he would walk away completely unscathed, safe for a bit of embarrassment, maybe. But he didn’t even know these people, and probably would never see them again after this.

So yeah, he still thought it was a ridiculous idea, but he decided he was going for it. Mandy was definitely going to owe him for this, though. He would collect his debt at a later date, she could be sure of it.

He told her as much when he announced to her that he was willing to give this weird plan a go. She squealed, she jumped, she hugged him, she made promises of doing anything for him in return. He just rolled his eyes, laughed and hugged her back, still feeling unsure about the whole thing but glad to make his friend happy in some way.

He just hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be a _complete_ disaster.

***

The Alibi looked familiar, in that way your mind foggily conjures up memories of places you knew when you were a kid. This particular place made Ian think both of deadbeat dads and fun parties with his family, a seemingly weird combination that nevertheless painted a pretty accurate picture of his childhood and pre-teen years.

He hasn’t been here in a long time. Well, apart from that one occasion a couple years ago when his siblings had called for his help getting Lip off of a bar stool and back to the Gallagher house, where they ended up staging an intervention for his drinking. Thankfully Lip was doing much better now, but that instance certainly went to the top of the pile of bad memories Ian associated with this place.

He took out the packet of smokes from his coat pocket and pulled one out, as he and Mandy stood on the sidewalk together, ready to go in. Well. Maybe not quite so ready.

“So, anything else I should know before we do this?” He asked her nervously, pulling from his cigarette.

“Nah, I think we went over pretty much everything.” She nodded to herself, eyes fixed on the building. “Like I said, we’ll mostly be telling them the truth, about how we met, about how we got close… Just sprinkle some sappy, romantic shit on top of it and it should sound more or less believable, right?”

“Right…” Ian looked at her unconvinced.

“Just- You don’t need to overdo it with the physical affection stuff, but just try to pretend like you’re into me a little bit? I dunno, why don’t you picture a dude when you’re looking at me, or something.”

Ian chuckled in disbelief. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Now that you put it like that, it sounds so damn easy, thank you!” The sarcasm was dripping from his tone, he knew that.

Mandy glared at him. “Look, if you really don’t feel up to this, we still have time to call the whole thing off. I can just go in by myself. They’ll be insufferable assholes, but that’s not on you. I don’t want you to do something you’re not okay with.”

Ian looked at her kind smile. He knew she wouldn’t hold it against him, and that he wasn’t obligated to do anything here. It had been his choice to come. He just shrugged, thinking it probably wasn’t going to be as bad as all that in the end.

He sent Mandy a small smile and a confident nod, throwing away his smoke and motioning to the bar.

Showtime.

*

The interior of the bar flooded Ian with another surge of memories, more vivid this time. It was amazing how little this place had changed over the years.

He spotted Kev behind the bar and waved at him when he caught his eyes, smiling warmly, to which Kev grinned back enthusiastically.

Ian followed Mandy to a booth at the far end of the bar, where three people were already seated. As soon as they got to it, Mandy addressed the skinny guy sitting alone on the nearest side of the table to them. “Move, dickhead.” She smacked the back of his head to get her point across more clearly.

The guy slowly got up and made his way to the other side sidling next to the other two, all the while rubbing his head where she had hit him. “Fuck, Mandy, you don’t gotta be such a bitch about it.”

Ian watched the whole thing in amusement. There was something he instantly recognized in those siblings dynamics. He could easily picture Debbie and Carl having a similar exchange.

After him and Mandy sat down, Ian took the opportunity to get a better look at the people sitting opposite, who were all eyeing him with some degree of interest and wariness. Though, actually, the skinny guy who Mandy had spoken to only looked at him briefly before diverting his attention back to his beer, still lightly massaging the back of his head and glaring at Mandy with a frown.

The girl who was sitting directly opposite him (Sandy, he assumed) was leveling him with a somewhat menacing stare, a scowl between her eyebrows and a snarl on her lips. Ian was more than a little intimidated by her, if he was honest with himself.

The guy in the middle, though, was the one whose expression left him the most breathless. Well, not just his expression. His whole being, really.

From his blue eyes, to his full lips, to the stark contrast between pale skin and soft-looking black hair, this guy looked absolutely gorgeous. He was studying Ian closely, with an intense look that Ian couldn’t quite decipher, but that definitely took his breath away. When the guy started chewing lightly on his bottom lip, gaze still fixed on him, Ian had to remind himself he should probably avert his eyes quickly. He couldn’t give away the way that sight made him feel. He was, after all, “playing it straight” tonight. He groaned internally at the thought.

He was more than a little grateful when Mandy started speaking. “Alright, fuckers, let’s get the introductions out of the way.” She turned towards Ian, and he spotted a hint of an encouraging smile meant for him on her lips. “Ian, this is my fucked up family. My shithead brother Iggy, my other shithead brother Mickey, and my mean bitch cousin Sandy.” She pointed to each of them as she introduced them, a teasing smirk on her face that the one in the middle -- _Mickey_ \-- matched with a sarcastic snarl of his own.

_Mickey._ Hmm.

Jesus, Ian needed to get a grip.

“Fucked up family, this is my boyfriend, Ian.”

Mandy concluded the introductions with another smile directed at Ian, that he reciprocated before turning his attention to the others, giving a shy little wave. “Hey, guys. Nice to meet you.”

Mickey let out a small amused chuckle, eyebrows raised high on his forehead as he shook his head a little, looking down at the table. Sandy just kept staring right at Ian, not moving a muscle. Iggy looked at him like he thought he was an idiot but then shrugged and gulped down more of his beer.

Great. As far as first impressions go, this wasn’t one of the best. But he had figured it wouldn’t be all that easy to win them over. According to Mandy, though, he simply needed to come across as a nice guy who treated her right and they would be satisfied with that. So then, if he had just made himself look like a bit of a dork -- which, if he was honest with himself, he kind of was -- that was actually a good thing. Dorky and nice was good. No acting required there, really.

Ian took a deep breath, trying to relax. He just had to act like his normal, friendly self, play up his affectionate ways towards Mandy, and avoid revealing that he was actually a big ol’ ‘mo. Easy-peasy.

To that effect, he thought it best to sling an arm over Mandy’s shoulders, inching closer to her in the process. She turned her face to smile at him gratefully and Ian smiled back, but then made the terrible decision of looking towards Mickey, who was staring at him even more intensely than he had before. It was like this guy could see into his soul. Ian cleared his throat and lowered his eyes to the table as quickly as he could without raising suspicion.

Right at that moment, Mandy piped up from beside him. “Iggy, go fucking order two beers for Ian and me.” When he huffed in annoyance, she added, “Come on, don’t be a dickhead, I’m paying tonight.”

Iggy’s face lit up and he quickly finished his own beer, clearly intent on ordering another one for himself while he was at it. Ian, for his part, planned to nurse his one beer for the evening and then just switch to a coke or something. Not only he couldn’t really handle more than one drink on his meds anyway, but he intended to keep as clear a head as possible, if he wanted to stand a single chance at lying his way through the whole night and avoiding his unexpected attraction for one of Mandy’s brothers being discovered by everyone.

After a couple of minutes in which Ian busied himself with trying to look like he was into Mandy by whispering things in her ear and making her giggle, certain that Mickey and Sandy were watching his every move like damn hawks, Iggy returned with the beers. Ian had just detached himself from Mandy to take a sip from his, when Sandy spoke.

“So, how did you two lovebirds get together?”

Ian and Mandy were momentarily stumped, mouths gaping but nothing coming out.

Sandy quickly continued, a teasing smile plastered on her lips. “I mean, Mandy told us you guys work together, so we know how you _met_. But what was it that lit the spark between you two?”

Ian’s brain was working overtime trying to come up with a plausible lie. This wasn’t one of those instances where they could just “mostly tell the truth”, as Mandy had confidently put it time and time again. The _spark_ wasn’t at all part of their actual relationship, so Ian scrambled to find something to say that made at least a bit of sense.

Ian glanced at Mandy, who looked as lost as he felt. He forced his mouth to start forming words. “Um… I guess there wasn’t an actual spark, really.” Sandy raised one of her eyebrows in challenge, so he continued. “I mean, we just kinda bonded over time and seeked comfort in each other when our coworkers kept doing our heads in, I guess. And, y’know, things just happened from there.”

There. That was enough of the truth with a sprinkle of unspecified _things that happened_ added to the mix. Ian had no idea what he meant exactly by that, but he hoped they would buy the truth of his words anyway.

Ian chanced a glance at Mickey, who was looking at the glass in his hand and seemed to be grinning to himself, before brushing a thumb over his lower lip and changing his expression back to something more neutral. God, there was something about this guy that Ian just couldn’t figure out, couldn’t put his finger on. But damn, did he want to.

Sandy just hummed, her face looking slightly more relaxed as she nodded to herself. Shit, maybe Ian actually managed to convince her.

At the end of the day, it had been a pretty great answer, if he said so himself. And after all, what reason would she have not to believe him? Ian tried to remind himself that these guys were looking to determine if he was one of the usual losers Mandy always seemed to date or if for once she had found an actually decent guy. They weren’t actively seeking to expose him as a fake boyfriend who was actually a huge man-loving queer. There was no way they could suspect he was gay and they had no reason to believe Mandy would go out of her way to convince someone to play her fake boyfriend for their benefit. Ian took another deep breath as he tried to force his body and mind to relax.

Sandy took a sip of her beer and shrugged, “Cool. Well, I’m glad Mandy has someone who’s got her back in there. From what I heard, your coworkers are all a bunch of pricks with sticks shoved far up their asses. You seem like a nice enough dude, I guess.” She was still studying him a bit, but her expression was miles away from the murderous one she sported at the beginning of the evening. Ian guessed that was as good as it was going to get with her, so he counted it as a win.

“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what the people we work with are like. I’m just glad he found each other,” he said, with what he hoped would translate as a loving look towards Mandy. God, he was _on fire_ tonight. Maybe those acting classes really were worth a damn, in the end.

He took a sip of his beer and sat back in his seat. He was starting to relax. He figured Sandy was going to be the most difficult one to please, if her menacing stare had been anything to go by. After all, the other two hadn’t questioned him at all so far.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t actually heard Mickey speak a single word yet. Him and Iggy were whispering to each other right now, but Ian couldn’t really discern anything, and it seemed like Iggy was doing most of the talking anyway, Mickey mostly nodding and frowning at his brother.

Ian found himself kind of curious to hear what Mickey’s voice sounded like. He figured it would be deep and gruff and sexy, maybe...

_Nope._

Ian wasn’t going to do this.

Apart from the fact he was supposed to be attempting to convince this guy he was straight, there was no way Mickey himself was gay, right?

Though the way Ian caught the guy looking at him every now and then…

But no. Mickey was just sizing him up, trying to intimidate him. That was what those looks were about. Any foolish notion Ian had that Mickey might have figured out his secret or that he simply liked what he was seeing were either the product of paranoia or wishful thinking. And anyway, that wasn’t the point. Ian was determined to continue with his straight act for Mandy’s sake. It had worked well enough so far, hadn’t it? He wasn’t going to ruin everything because of his big gay boner for Mandy’s hot brother.

Right at that moment, Mickey turned his attention away from Iggy and caught Ian while he was staring at him. _Shit._ Every alarm bell in Ian’s brain was screaming at him to avert his eyes, but he wasn’t quite able to before seeing Mickey very slowly raise an eyebrow while holding Ian’s gaze, the side of his mouth quirking up in a subtle smirk.

Ian felt his face heat up as he quickly turned towards Mandy, catching a few words of the conversation she was having with Sandy. Ian tried to focus on that to distract himself from the alluring dark-haired man, managing to register that Mandy was asking her cousin about her girlfriend’s whereabouts tonight. Ian’s attention was soon captured back by the object of his desires, however, when Mickey suddenly spoke.

“So. Mandy’s new boyfriend, huh?”

There was a teasing lilt to his tone, and Ian couldn’t decide if he was more glad to finally hear Mickey’s voice -- and what an amazing sounding voice that was -- or anxious that he was about to be found out.

He slowly turned to face Mickey, and the way he was looking at Ian was just… unfair. That smirk, those raised eyebrows, those intense blue eyes. This guy was going to be the death of Ian, he was certain of it. In that moment, he was also certain that Mickey knew everything, that somehow he knew each and every one of Ian’s secrets. So powerful was the way Mickey was looking at him and Ian’s magnetic pull towards the guy.

Yeah. Ian was _fucked_.

He managed to nod and mutter a quick “Yep,” before shyly lowering his eyes, dreading the questioning that was surely to follow, if Mickey’s demeanor was anything to go by. Mickey didn’t at all look threatening at the moment, that wasn’t what was spooking Ian like this. He looked vaguely amused, relaxed… confident as fuck. And all the sexier for it.

“You know, I remember you.”

That was _not_ something Ian had expected him to say. His head shot up, looking right at Mickey, confused. “Huh?” he said eloquently.

Mickey simply nodded. “From the old neighborhood. Used to work at the Kash and Grab, right?”

Ah. Yeah, Ian supposed it made sense that he and Mickey would’ve crossed paths back in the day, before Ian moved out of the Southside. He had some memory of the Milkovich kids terrorizing the neighborhood, and they definitely often came to steal stuff from the store he worked at. He kind of wished he remembered Mickey specifically now. God, he would have had such a crush on him if they had interacted even a tiny bit when they were kids.

“Um, yeah,” was all he could reply. Jesus, he should probably try to contribute a tiny bit more to the conversation. “I, uh… I think you might’ve come in to steal shit once or twice when I was working there.” He sent Mickey a half smirk, trying to appear somewhat confident and like he could give as good as he got. Pun not intended.

Mickey just laughed amusedly, and Ian’s heart gave a little kick. He was really beautiful when he laughed. “Yeah, man, and after you were gone, too. Think I stole a fucking gun from your little boss once.”

The mention of his “little boss” had Ian’s mind going back to those days. To Kash. God, had that been a mistake. It had been one of the reasons that convinced him to leave the Southside behind, actually. He just got so fucking tired of that whole fucked up situation with Kash and Linda. He wanted to start a new life, not be some pedo’s dirty little secret anymore.

“Yeah, figures. Kash was never known for being able to stand up to people.” He smiled at Mickey, who grinned back and hummed, looking him in the eye while he brought his beer to his lips.

This was nice, Ian thought. Sure, some of the looks Mickey sent his way were still confusing as hell, and there was a part of him that kept thinking Mickey was maybe sort of flirting with him, but all in all, he was feeling more relaxed by the minute. Talking to Mickey seemed to have that effect on him.

After that the conversation went back to involving everyone sitting in the booth, and ranging from Iggy’s girlfriend’s annoying habits to Mickey complaining about his boss at the auto shop -- Ian couldn’t help thinking he would definitely not mind seeing Mickey in his mechanic overalls, covered in grease. Finally, Sandy, Iggy and Mickey started making fun of Mandy for her questionable choices when it came to men, recounting admittedly funny stories starring the various losers and weirdos she had dated in the last couple years.

And yeah, Ian could see what she meant when she lamented the way her family gave her a hard time about it, obnoxiously so. He could definitely understand why she would want to prove them wrong and shut them up for once. He did his best to defend her and praise her qualities -- like a good boyfriend would do, he thought, but also simply like a friend who genuinely cared about her would do. So it turned out not to be a hard task at all.

He even caught a couple looks sent his way from Mickey that he struggled to define as anything other than fond, while Iggy and Sandy were mostly just chuckling or downright snorting in laughter at Ian singing Mandy’s praises. He didn’t know what to make of that, other than the fact that Mickey obviously really loved his sister, and was maybe glad she had someone who cared that much about her outside of her family.

In the end, Ian found himself thinking he genuinely liked these people, and was enjoying spending time with them. It probably shouldn’t have come as that much of a shock, considering they all had a lot of the same qualities he appreciated in Mandy and, just like she did, they reminded him of home. He was once again glad to be around people who spoke their minds and weren’t so painfully full of themselves.

*

The night came to an end when Sandy and Iggy said their goodbyes, both anxious to return to their respective girlfriends. Ian watched Mickey stay back, seemingly not in a hurry to leave, and wondered if he also had a girlfriend to get back to. For the one-hundredth time that night, Ian had to remind himself it wasn’t any of his business if he did.

Mandy told the two of them she was going to talk to Kev and pay for their drinks, and that she would be back in a minute.

As soon as she stepped away, Ian became acutely aware that he and Mickey were suddenly alone for the first time that whole night. There really was some kind of magnetic pull that attracted him to the man, and he was afraid of making an ass of himself somehow. Of revealing the way he actually felt. Busting the whole thing wide open in the process.

He turned fully towards Mickey, and found that the man in question was this time very clearly checking him out, raking his eyes down Ian’s whole body and then up again.

He expected Mickey to avert his gaze as soon as it met Ian’s own, to act embarrassed or defensive maybe, give him the whole ‘no homo’ spiel or something.

Instead, Mickey kept his eyes fixed on Ian’s, an intense look present in them, almost challenging maybe. Ian’s whole body heated up. He knew he needed to break eye-contact, but he didn’t seem in charge of his own body anymore, and felt almost like he’d been hypnotized. He was lost in those expressive blue eyes, and moved his gaze downwards only when he spied Mickey’s tongue dart out to wet his plump bottom lip, oh so torturously _slowly_. Ian was absolutely convinced he was going to die when Mickey finished by chewing on that same lip, a hint of a seductive smirk tugging at it.

Ian only managed to snap out of it once he heard Mandy’s voice calling them over. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at Mickey’s mouth, but now nervously realized he had parted his own lips at one point, panting softly, and he was standing so close to the man he could faintly smell him. Ian thought he would get drunk on that smell. It was heavenly.

Getting out of his trance definitively, he quickly stepped away from Mickey and made his way to Mandy, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way he was now violently blushing.

They all went outside and Ian was barely conscious of the siblings hugging goodbye and of Mickey departing with a final grin thrown his way and a teasing “Nice to meet ya. Ian”, to which Ian could respond with no more than a faint nod.

Once they were alone, Ian was reeling. He sighed heavily and loudly addressed his friend, “What the _fuck_ , Mandy?”

She looked taken aback by his outburst. “What?! I thought the whole thing went really fucking well, all things considered. Why are you all huffy all of a sudden?”

Ian just sighed again. “Is your brother gay?”

“Mickey? Well, yeah.” She sounded vaguely bored as she said it. There was a part deep inside Ian, though, that was doing internal cartwheels as the information registered. Well, the part that didn’t feel so fucking blindsided, anyway.

“Wait, how did you know?” Mandy asked.

“‘Cuz he was clearly checking me out back there, while you were busy paying for the drinks!”

She didn’t look shocked. “Pfft, that’s just how he is around hot guys. He’s a shameless fucking flirt, especially after he gets a little tipsy, but it’s not like he would actually make a move on my goddamn boyfriend, for fuck’s sake. Ian, he has no reason to suspect you’re gay,” Mandy reassured him.

Ian was not entirely convinced. “It’s just… the way he was looking at me… with those eyes… like, all night, actually. Like he knows, somehow.” He furrowed his brows, trying to keep the guilt at bay. “Plus, uh- When he was doing that eyefucking thing of his back there, I might not’ve… looked away as quickly as a straight guy would’ve in that situation. Maybe.”

“Ian!” She punched him on the arm. “What the fuck?! You are _not_ gonna fuck my brother! You’re supposed to pretend to be _my_ boyfriend, asshole!”

“Hey!” He rubbed his arm vigorously. She packed a mean punch. “No one’s saying anything about fucking anybody! But listen, why the hell didn’t you tell me one of your brothers was gay? I could’ve been more prepared for this sort of thing!”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Explain to me how. If you were gonna develop a boner for my brother, that was always gonna happen, whether you knew about it or not. It would’ve just happened even more quickly if you’d known he was gay the whole time.”

Okay, she had a point, he had to admit. He sighed. “Still, I think I fucked it up for you at this point. He definitely knows something.”

“Nah, trust me, you’re giving him way too much credit. Mickey has the shittest gaydar in the world. I don’t think he’s ever hooked up with anyone he didn’t meet at a gay club. Unless it’s a sure thing, he usually won’t even bother.”

“So, he doesn’t date? He’s single, then?”

“Ian!”

“Sorry, I’m only asking! Just curious, I promise.” Mandy was getting pissed at him, so he tried to reassure her. “I swear, nothing’s gonna happen. I wouldn’t do that to you, you know that. I promised I would help you with this and I’m gonna keep my word, Mands.”

She’d been staring hard at him, but then she relented, nodding and lowering her eyes. “Yeah, okay. We could do this again, say, in a couple weeks? To show those assholes that I _can_ actually keep a nice guy around for longer than a week. What d’you say, you up for it?”

“Yeah, ‘course, no problem.” In the end tonight had been nice, and even relatively easy, despite the need to suppress his inopportune attraction towards Mickey. He could definitely do this again. And if he was at least partly eager to repeat the experience just to be able to look into those intense blue eyes again, well, Mandy didn’t need to know that.

“Okay, dummy.” She smiled. “Come on, let’s split an Uber and get the fuck home. We have more endless, tedious work to do in the morning.”


	2. Between a rock and a hard place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ian is stubborn, Mickey is persistent and an important confrontation happens.
> 
>  **Excerpt:**  
>  “Yep, so it’s just us tonight.” He paused. “Huh, that’s funny. Was just thinking, without Iggy here, you’re the only straight person at the table, Mands.”
> 
> Ian just about choked on his own spit.
> 
> Mickey’s voice had sounded playful, and when Ian looked up at him he saw a devilish smirk on his (beautiful) lips.
> 
> Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuck._
> 
> “Oh, and, Mandy’s boyfriend, of course. How could I fucking forget.” The smirk only turned more smug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for you guys to read this chapter!!!!!

“Come on, _come on_ , you fucking piece of shit. _Please_.”

Ian was really starting to lose what little patience he had left. It wasn’t enough that today time seemed to go by even more slowly than usual-- probably since, once again, he had been asked by his boss to do the most boring, menial tasks in the known universe. Oh, no.

Of fucking course, on top of that, his computer had decided to start randomly freezing and not responding to his commands. It was like the damn thing was mocking him.

With a tired sigh, Ian determined to save his work and restart the computer (once the offending machine allowed him to, anyway), hoping that it would fix the problem. Otherwise, he’d have to call the IT department, and wasn’t _that_ a pleasant experience every time he was subjected to it. Those guys always treated him like he was a fucking idiot, and he was usually forced to bite his tongue so hard in order to keep himself from launching a string of curses at them, that he feared he’d just bite the whole thing off one day.

He _really_ hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He was currently praying to some hypothetical Computer Gods that maybe existed somewhere out there in the universe that it wouldn’t come to that. That’s how much this day was sucking. It was all slowly doing his head in.

God, he needed a break.

And, well. Might as well take one, while he was waiting for the computer to restart and indicate to him whether or not it would be willing to cooperate this time.

Yes, a coffee break sounded pretty heavenly right now. Not that his coffee would contain any actual caffeine since he switched to decaf a long time ago now, but he still immensely enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the hot beverage. He was sure it would at least partly soothe his nerves and restore _some_ of his depleted energy.

He’d swing by Mandy’s desk to see if she could take her break now as well, knowing she’d definitely jump at the chance unless she was really busy with some urgent task or something.

They tried to sneak in a few minutes to hang out and have a quick chat during breaks at least a couple times a day, and on some days it was the only thing able to keep Ian sane during working hours. This was one of those days.

He really hoped she’d be available. God knows he needed a distraction from his work-related frustration and the mind-numbing boredom of it all.

Plus, he kind of meant to bring up a subject with her, that he sort of hadn’t been able to organically fit into a conversation up until now.

Thing is, it had been a few days since having drinks at the Alibi with Mandy and her family, and Ian had found himself thinking about that night more than it was probably healthy to. Him and Mandy hadn’t talked about it much, Mandy apparently considering the whole thing a success and leaving it at that, at least until they were set to repeat the experience the following week.

Ian, though, was stuck on a particular aspect of the night. Or, on a particular someone, he should probably say. He was unsure how to approach the subject with Mandy, since she had seemed somewhat sensitive to the idea of Ian and her brother becoming a thing. And like, Ian got it. The whole point was convincing Mandy’s family that Ian was her boyfriend, so Ian hooking up with her brother would definitely defeat the purpose.

Rationally, Ian knew that.

But that didn’t stop his mind from constantly conjuring up images of the alluring brunet, usually at the worst possible times, like when he was supposed to be focusing on work instead. Sometimes, though, it happened at the best possible times. Like this morning, for instance, when he woke up from a very pleasant dream he had only the vaguest recollection of, except he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it had starred none other than the one and only Mickey Milkovich. Gorgeous, intriguing, sexy as hell Mickey Milkovich.

Jesus he had it bad, if he was already having damn R-rated dreams about a guy he only met once for less than two hours a few days before.

Could it be _because_ he was off limits that Ian was so taken with the idea of starting something with Mickey? Did he want him this bad because he couldn’t have him, because Mandy would be pissed, because it would be a really fucking terrible idea to get involved with her brother right now?

He tried to rationalize that maybe that was the case, that maybe that’s all it was.

But then he thought back to the way Mickey had looked at him, to the way he had left Ian completely breathless, helplessly hypnotized by Mickey’s perfect features and inherent sexiness, and-- well.

There was definitely more to it than just the whole ‘forbidden fruit’ thing, no doubt about it. Ian had _felt_ something. An attraction that was unlike any other he had experienced before.

And he’d seen a world of possibilities in Mickey’s eyes. He’d seen interest, he’d seen teasing, maybe a little bit of mischief. Him and Mickey had exchanged very few words, which added to the mystery this man represented for Ian. But despite the lack of actual words, he thought maybe he had learned things, important things, from the looks Mickey had directed his way. He thought somehow they knew a lot about each other, even though they had barely spoken.

Yet at the same time, there was so much Ian didn’t know.

He wanted to know everything.

When it came to bringing up the subject with Mandy, though -- the _Mickey_ subject -- he knew he had to get into a different mindset. He could _not_ , under any circumstances, reveal to her the depth of his attraction to her brother. She would definitely not be pleased, if her reaction outside the Alibi after the night was over was any indication.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. He was supposed to have her back in this whole thing, and he was definitely going to continue to help his friend to the best of his abilities.

But. No harm in being a little curious, right?

Ian approached her desk and rested his hands on the wood, bending his back slightly and tilting his head to catch her eyes.

“Coffee?” was all he had to say to coax a huge, grateful smile from her.

“Yes. Fucking yes, please.” She was up in a flash, already speed-walking in the direction of the break room before he could even react.

He grinned to himself and quickly scrambled to follow after her.

*

“Fuuuck, that’s good.”

Ian smirked, watching Mandy enjoying her cup of coffee with a pleased smile on her lips and her eyes closed in relief. He smiled into his own cup, until he remembered he needed to find a way to bring up a certain subject, and he needed to do it fast. They couldn’t stay on break forever.

“I really needed that, after the fucking day I’ve had.”

Mandy wasn’t really helping matters. Ian had foolishly hoped she would maybe say something that would allow him to seamlessly introduce the topic he wanted to discuss, but there was no chance of that, apparently. If his instincts were correct, she was just about to launch into a rant about one of their bosses and the stupid amount of work they had her do today.

You know what, fuck it. It was now or never.

“So, uh... You talk to your brothers or your cousin since the other night?”

Well.

Ian had never been one to be particularly subtle or to be able to play it cool, anyway.

Mandy looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change in the topic of conversation. “No, not really. A few texts here and there like usual, nothing more. Why?”

Shit. Ian definitely needed her to not get suspicious.

“No reason, just thinking about it. So they really bought it, huh? Can’t believe we were able to pull that off, to be honest.”

She grinned. “Yeah, me neither. I mean, I was kind of optimistic about it, at first. But I’m not gonna lie, I was also imagining all sorts of disaster scenarios in which they found out and then started messing with me even more after discovering the shit I’d tried to pull. Thank god they’re gullible fuckers, really,” she concluded with a smirk.

Ian chuckled. “Yeah, you can say that again. It was kinda surprisingly easy, in the end.” Okay. Time to get to the point. _Don’t pussy out now, Ian._ “I was honestly a bit worried about your brother having figured me out, but I guess you were right. He would’ve said something to you by now if that was the case, right?” He hid his face in the coffee mug, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

“Who, Mickey? Yeah, I told you not to worry about that. He would’ve _definitely_ given me shit by now if he suspected anything, you can bet money on that.”

“So, he hasn’t said anything to you about it?”

“Not a thing. Don’t stress about it, everything’s cool. We’re just gonna do the whole ‘drinks at the Alibi with the boyfriend’ thing one more time and then that’ll be that. I mean, I’m hoping to find a real guy to start dating before long, so don’t you worry, you and I are gonna have an amicable break up soon enough, and then you’ll never have to deal with my family again.”

“A _real_ guy? I might get offended.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Mandy said through a laugh. “A guy to date for real!”

Ian chuckled, but then turned sober again. He didn’t want to raise her suspicions, expressing an interest like this, but he was damn curious and he needed to know more about the guy of his dreams. _In_ his dreams. Damn it. The guy he’d had a dream about. That’s what he meant. It was a bit premature to start thinking of Mickey as the man of his dreams. _Get a goddamn grip, Ian, geez._

“Hey, you’d never mentioned one of your brothers was gay before. How come you never thought to introduce us?”

She snorted. “Mickey ain’t exactly the friendly type, you know? Like, I think he gets along well enough with the guys he works with, and he has us, but that’s it. He can be kind of a dick to people most of the time, so I didn’t really see any reason to subject you to his sparkling personality. Just ‘cause he’s gay, doesn’t mean you guys have anything in common.”

Ian was registering all this new information about his crush, hearing nothing that would make him like him any less. In fact, Mickey sounded all the more intriguing to him. And sure, her argument that she shouldn’t have introduced them to each other just because they’re both gay made sense, obviously. It wasn’t like Ian would’ve thought it was a good idea to set Mandy up with his brother just because they’re both straight, even if he hadn’t been already taken. That would have been a disaster waiting to happen for sure.

He must have spaced out for a few seconds, because when he looked up, Mandy was eyeing him curiously, a frown appearing on her face.

“And before you ask, he ain’t boyfriend material either, okay? He would just bang you and throw you aside like yesterday’s trash. He’s never been serious about a guy before. He just fucks ‘em and drops ‘em.”

It was Ian’s turn to frown. “Isn’t that what _I_ do? I haven’t been serious with anyone in over a year, so it’s not like I’d want anything more than that either.”

“Yeah, but the dudes you fuck are total strangers you’ve met at a bar or on Grindr. I know you, Ian. If you start developing a connection with a guy before you fuck, you’re gonna wanna take it to the next level. You two already met, talked a bit. He’s your best friend’s brother, for fuck’sake. Plus you’re lonely, just like I am, so I know how that is. You want an actual relationship, and Mickey definitely isn’t the right guy for that. Trust me, he’d just break your fucking heart.”

“Gee, Mands, thanks for the fucking vote of confidence. I’d like to think I wouldn’t just let a guy crush me like that.” Ian was feeling genuinely hurt, maybe because her words cut deep. He _was_ lonely, and he _was_ thinking maybe he could have something real with Mickey. Well, so much for that. This conversation was turning fucking depressing, to be perfectly honest.

“Ian, I’m just trying to look out for you, you know that.” Her kind expression suddenly changed into something more stern. “And besides, it’s a moot fucking point now. Why are we even talking about this? Mickey needs to think you’re straight, so there’s no way anything could happen between you guys anyway. You’re sworn to secrecy even after we fake-breakup, or he’ll just fucking tease me mercilessly until the end of my days for having asked my gay best friend to pretend to be my boyfriend. Jesus, can you imagine how smug he would be, then? Ugh, no, thank you.”

And there it was. A not-so-gentle reminder that Mickey was completely off-limits, if Ian didn’t want to royally piss off Mandy and risk ruining their friendship. He was going to see the man one more time and that was it. Nothing could ever happen between them. The realization, even though it was nothing he hadn’t known already this morning, hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt a deep sadness for the things he couldn’t change. If only they had met under different circumstances...

He tried to put on a smile for Mandy, wanting to appear perfectly fine, like her words hadn’t affected him as much as they had. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know why we’re talking about this, either. Was just curious, I guess.”

Mandy gave him a sympathetic smile. “Hey. I know you’re kinda down ‘cause you haven’t dated in a while, but you’ll meet a great guy who’ll be the perfect match for you one day. You’re not losing anything by not going after someone like Mickey, I can promise you that.”

Ian wasn’t sure he believed her. He was too busy grieving the loss of what could’ve been to hear anything else she said after that.

***

Ian was trying to snap out of this funk. It did no one any good for him to be pining away for a guy he simply could not have. A guy he’d only met for a couple of hours total, he reminded himself.

Whatever connection he had felt that night could have been just a fluke. The heat of the moment. The effects of the alcohol he consumed. Anything. Similarly, the attraction Mickey seemed to have been feeling towards him could have been the result of these very same things, and not go beyond the night they first met. Things could drastically change once they saw each other again.

And anyway, Ian was stronger than that. He could get past whatever he was feeling in order to help his friend, which had been the main goal since the start after all. He just needed to focus on how much he didn’t want to hurt her and disappoint her, and for what? A guy who, according to her, wouldn’t be interested in anything beyond a fuck anyway?

In the end, Mandy was right. There were plenty more fish in the sea, without Ian having to fixate on the one guy he couldn’t pursue. On his best friend’s brother, of all people. A man who hadn’t been anywhere near his radar until recently. Someone Ian would never have even met if it wasn’t for this dumb fake-dating scheme of Mandy’s.

The whole thing was utterly ridiculous, when he thought about it.

And he was. Thinking about it.

Rationalizing and arguing with himself and debating what to do, until he became exhausted and exasperated to the point of nausea.

The whole back and forth within him got even more intense once Mandy announced to him that two days from now they were going to repeat the experience that had left him so shaken the last time.

He was going to see Mickey again.

No, he couldn’t focus on that. He was going to pretend to be Mandy’s boyfriend in front of her family. That was what the whole thing was about. Nothing more. And Mickey was nothing more than one of Mandy’s brothers to him.

Ian could do this. He could _do this_.

Right?

***

Ian was a bundle of nerves. No amount of self-pep talk was going to prepare him for this. But he strove to put on his game face as much as possible, so he forced a smile as he and Mandy started to approach the right booth after entering the Alibi, Ian having a hand pressed to the small of her back. Once again, it was showtime. Only the stakes seemed much higher now.

He noticed that Iggy wasn’t there this time, and wondered whether he was simply in the bathroom, or if he’d join them later, or if he wouldn’t show up at all tonight. He was busying his mind with any kind of thought that would distract him from fixing his eyes on Mickey, who was sitting opposite him. Fuck, this was going to be hard.

“Iggy ditched us to hang with his girl tonight, the prick,” Sandy said, solving the mystery. “Apparently she’s been working most nights at her new job and complaining to him that they aren’t spending enough time together lately. And she was free tonight, so.”

“Don’t think I asked last time-- What does Iggy do for a living? He work during the day?” Ian inquired, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t noticing from the corner of his eye the intense way Mickey was once again watching him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough brain power to process the answer Mandy was giving to his question, as he was too busy pleading with his mind to get its shit together. He would have loved to ask several follow-up questions about Iggy’s job, but he simply hadn’t heard a word Mandy had said, and now the table was silent.

That was, until Mickey spoke.

“Yep, so it’s just us tonight.” He paused. “Huh, that’s funny. Was just thinking, without Iggy here, you’re the only straight person at the table, Mands.”

Ian just about choked on his own spit.

Mickey’s voice had sounded playful, and when Ian looked up at him he saw a devilish smirk on his (beautiful) lips.

Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuck_.

“Oh, and, Mandy’s boyfriend, of course. How fucking stupid of me.” The smirk only turned more smug.

Ian quickly looked to his left to see the girls’ reactions, but Mandy was boredly looking at her phone and Sandy seemed focused on just drinking her beer, like she hadn’t heard either. Or she simply wasn’t that interested in unpacking what Mickey had said. Before he had corrected himself, anyway.

Ian, on the other hand, had had plenty of time to panic, not that he had stopped panicking now. Mickey’s facial expression left very little doubt as to what he had meant with that little performance.

He knew. That much was clear to Ian.

Though Mickey didn’t seem to be interested in revealing this knowledge to Mandy and teasing the life out of her like she had been worried about. More than anything, Mickey seemed interested in teasing _Ian_ instead. Toying with him, making him squirm. Or at least that was the effect he was having.

Ian couldn’t help but wonder what Mickey’s angle was here. Did he just want to torture Ian? Did he _want_ something from him? Was he looking to fuck him? Did he simply want to prove to himself he was right, congratulate himself for having found Ian out and not having fallen victim to his sister’s charades?

Ian had no clue, but he guessed the two of them would have to talk alone before the night was over. He needed to figure Mickey out, just like he was convinced he had Ian all figured out.

Ian needed answers, and he needed to find a way not to ruin everything for Mandy despite how things seemed to be unfolding at the moment. He owed her that much.

*

The rest of the evening featured -- predictably, at this point -- more teasing on Mickey’s part, in the form of lingering looks, dancing eyebrows and devious smirks, all of which sent Ian’s blood rushing to places where it shouldn’t. His face. That’s what that means. He meant he was blushing. Shut up.

Mickey had thankfully abstained from further jabs at Ian’s alleged heterosexuality, probably because the girls would have definitely started to notice at some point.

No, this was a game that Mickey was absolutely playing with Ian and Ian alone. He couldn’t wait to get some time with Mickey one on one, so that he could set a few things straight. So to speak. _Jesus_.

He had no idea what he would actually say to the man once they could speak alone -- whether he would just come out with the truth or if he would continue trying to pretend for Mandy’s sake -- but he was itching to have that chance at this point.

The opportunity came when Sandy left the bar first with a “See ya, motherfuckers!” and Mickey looked, once again, like he was in no hurry to leave. Ian just had to make sure Mandy didn’t wait for him to leave together, and he was almost positive that Mickey would then follow his lead and stay behind.

So after they paid for their drinks, he told Mandy, “Hey, I’m gonna stay and have another drink. Wanna catch up with Kev, haven’t really talked to him in forever.” At the last minute, he added, “You don’t mind, do you, babe?”, because after all he was still trying to keep up appearances for Mickey’s benefit -- or was it just for Mandy’s benefit at this point? -- and he thought that’s what you would say to your girlfriend if you were staying behind at a bar and sending her on her merry way.

She smiled at Ian warmly. “Of course not, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mandy then leaned in to kiss him on the mouth and he panicked for a moment, recovering just in time for her to give him a quick peck on the lips. Ian hoped his initial reaction didn’t look too bad from the outside.

“You going too, fuckface?” Mandy asked her brother, and Ian sort of held his breath for a second.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna hit the john first, so I’ll see ya. Get home safe, bitch,” Mickey said, giving her a quick hug before heading in the direction of the men’s room.

“‘K, guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, _baby_.” Mandy grinned, giving Ian’s shoulder a light shove.

“‘Course, _babe_ , can’t wait,” Ian teased, wiggling his eyebrows and everything.

She rolled her eyes at him, still smiling. “Night, you idiot.”

“Night, honey!” Ian called out to her just as she was exiting the bar, her middle finger the last thing he saw of her.

Ian chuckled to himself for a moment, but the anxiety over the situation didn’t take long to resurface. Mickey was currently in the bathroom, and unless Ian had misread the atmosphere entirely, he stayed behind so they could talk and get a few things out in the open.

Shit, or maybe Mickey simply figured that they were going to hook up? Well, that was definitely not happening. Ian was not going to give in to his lust. He was on a mission here and he was stronger than that. He hoped.

Well, anyway, here came the moment of truth. From the corner of his eye, he spied Mickey making his way back from the bathroom. Ian steeled himself and stood more upright, getting ready for whatever was coming next.

Mickey stopped right in front of him and looked up at him from under his lashes, rubbing a thumb over his bottom lip. “So. We doing this?”

Ian’s heart rate picked up again. “Um. Doing what exactly?”

Mickey sighed. “I dunno, man. Whatever it is you’re still here for.”

Mickey looked at him a bit like he thought Ian was an idiot, and Ian knew it must have been because he was gaping at him with his mouth open like a fucking fish, right about now. But he didn’t know what to do or say, or what came next. He was just frozen on the spot.

Mickey sighed again, rolling his eyes. “Jesus Christ. You wanna go outside, maybe? Share a smoke?”

Ian nodded frantically, finally finding his voice. “Uh, yeah. Okay.”

“Good. Lead the way then, Freckles.”

And Ian did.

*

Ian was nervous. Very nervous. As if Mickey’s mere presence didn’t have that effect on him anyway, he really didn’t know what to expect from this conversation. Was it even worth it to keep up the charade? Should he just ask him to not tell Mandy that he had discovered the truth?

God, Ian needed to keep his shit together here.

Mickey was standing to his side, reaching into his coat pocket for his smokes. Ian saw him get one out of the pack and put it to his lips. Shit, those lips. Mickey lit up the smoke with his lighter and took a few puffs, before offering the cigarette to Ian, eyebrows raised and eyes fixed on his.

Ian felt himself tremble under that look, but it was nothing compared to the shiver that went through his body when their fingers brushed as he took the smoke from Mickey. Ian very nearly dropped the cigarette he was so on edge, only narrowly managing to avoid making a fucking fool of himself. This time.

He brought the smoke to his lips and took a drag, feeling the wetness where Mickey’s lips had been. Shit, he was so fucked.

When Ian turned his head towards Mickey, he found the guy intently watching his mouth. And he didn’t stop, either, once Ian caught him. Mickey simply raised his gaze to Ian’s eyes and kept it there for what felt like ages. Mickey seemed to get in as much a daze as Ian did when their eyes met like that. He didn’t know what to do with this realization.

Suddenly, Mickey spoke. “So, uh… how the fuck did my sister get you to fake being her boyfriend, anyway?”

And there it was. Just as he suspected, Mickey knew. Ian didn’t know how, if he was just that bad an actor, or if Mandy was too, or if Mickey was just that good at spotting when someone was only pretending to be into his little sister. Or maybe Mickey did have really good gaydar in the end.

In any case, Ian couldn’t help but go with a shocked reaction. “Huh? What the hell are you talking about? I _am_ her fucking boyfriend.”

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah, right. You’re about as queer as they come, Firecrotch, so don’t give me that bullshit. I’m just curious to know how the fuck she roped you into it, is all. But you can go ahead and drop the act, Sunshine. It ain’t fooling anyone.”

Well, now Ian was more than shocked. He was fucking outraged. “Excuse- How the fuck would you know?”

Mickey just smirked, his eyebrows high up on his forehead. What a _dick_.

“And what do you mean, I’m not fooling anyone? You’re the only asshole who’s coming to me with this. Your brother and your cousin sure didn’t seem to think I was a fake!”

Mickey was clearly very amused, basically laughing in Ian’s face now as he moved to steal his cigarette back from an agitated Ian and puffed on it. “Ah, well, if you really wanna know, Sandy told me she was okay with the whole thing, she just didn’t get why the hell Mandy would agree to be your beard, though.”

Ian’s jaw hit the floor. He was so convinced Sandy had bought the whole thing. He felt like a fucking idiot.

“So, y’know, she just didn’t catch on to the fact that this is all clearly one of Mandy’s ridiculous-ass plans. But no, you didn’t fool her, either. And Iggy? Well, Iggy’s a bit fucking slow on the uptake, and he doesn’t give enough of a fuck to put in the brainpower needed to figure this shit out. But I bet he wouldn’t be surprised either, if I told him Mandy’s new boyfriend was a fag.”

Ian was stumped. In the space of a few minutes, Mickey had destroyed every certainty he had about how things had gone that first night they met. Not that he didn’t already strongly suspect Mickey was onto him, but apparently his little straight act had been all for nothing. Complete waste of time. God, Mandy was going to be _pissed_.

Ian didn’t know what to do. Should he keep denying everything? Tell Mickey he was dead wrong, convince him he’s not gay-- but how the fuck was Ian supposed to do that? Mickey looked like he didn’t have a single doubt in his mind, while Ian was sure he was looking like the damn ground had given way under his feet at the moment.

He still couldn’t find a way to bring himself to speak. He was just opening and closing his mind wordlessly at this point. Thankfully after a while he saw Mickey’s expression soften, like the guy had decided to take pity on him.

“Look.” Mickey sighed. “Sorry you got caught up in the middle of this bullshit, man. I ain’t tryna start any shit with you, I know it was my dumb bitch of a sister who came up with this whole fucking thing and you were just… along for the damn ride.”

Well, that fucking stung. Like Ian was just some moron, incapable of making his own decisions and easily manipulated. _Fuck_ this guy, seriously.

“Then what the fuck _are_ you tryna do here, Mickey? Huh? The fuck do you want from me?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth pulling up. He snickered. “You really gotta ask?”

The nerve of this guy. Was he _really_ doing this now? Trying to come on to Ian after basically calling him an idiot and busting the whole house of cards right in front of him like it was nothing? Who the fuck did Mickey think he was anyway? Ian didn’t want to listen to the part of himself that was growing increasingly turned on by Mickey’s assholish attitude and smug sexiness, because _fuck that_. Now was the time for righteous indignation.

“Fuck you,” Ian spat, taking a threatening step towards him. “You think you’re so smart, huh? Think you got me all figured out? You don’t know shit.”

Mickey took a drag from his smoke and looked up at Ian through his lashes. “Know more than you think.” The fucker had the audacity to lick his lips, slowly and purposefully. Ian hated him. “And if you weren’t such a stubborn motherfucker, I know we could be having some fun right about now.”

Those damn eyebrows were doing that thing again, that thing that made Ian’s legs fucking wobble. And the way Mickey’s lips were closing around the cigarette was goddamn unfair, honestly. But Ian had to remain strong.

“Oh, I’m stubborn, am I? Well’ excuse _me_ if I don’t automatically fall at your damn feet right after you basically call me a fucking idiot who fooled exactly no one with my piss-poor act! Oh, and on top of that now you’re probably gonna go on to fucking humiliate my friend, _your own sister_ \-- who only came up with this whole charade because you were all being insufferable fucking assholes to her!”

Ian found himself panting, basically in Mickey’s face, so he took a small step back. He ended up yelling half of his little rant and was actually feeling a bit embarrassed now.

Leave it to Mickey to just cackle at his display.

“Come on, man, don’t be so fucking dramatic. Makes sense now why you’d be friends with Mandy.” Was there a hint of fondness in his voice and on his face right now? Ian was frankly still too pissed off to care, and definitely too pissed off to speak right now.

“Fuck, man, she does dumb shit like this all the time. Though this is a new low even for her, I gotta say.”

Ian just glared at him.

Mickey sighed. “Hey, look. If it’s that important to you, I won’t say anything. Make her believe I bought every fucking word and won’t make fun of her to death like I’d have a goddamn right to.” Ian sent him an unimpressed look. “Okay? Happy now?”

It was Ian’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “And I guess all you want from me in exchange for this is the chance to bang me, right?”

“Ey, fuck you! I’m not fucking saying you either bang me or I spill everything to Mandy. Jesus, man! Who the fuck do you take me for?”

Mickey looked genuinely outraged that Ian would ever think that of him, but Ian was just getting increasingly confused by the whole exchange they were having. He was so damn on edge he started pacing on the sidewalk while ranting at Mickey like a lunatic.

“I don’t fucking know, Mickey! I don’t really know you, do I? You’ve just fucking... sprung this all on me and I’m still tryna decide what I should do next. I _don’t_ want Mandy to find out you all know everything. She’d be crushed and she doesn’t deserve to feel like shit over this.”

“Alright, alright.” Mickey was following Ian’s frantic pacing with wide eyes. “She won’t. Not from me.” Ian stopped momentarily to glare at Mickey. “And I’ll talk to Sandy.”

Mickey was nodding slowly at Ian, looking like he was attempting to be reassuring. Ian wondered just why the guy was seemingly going to all this trouble to appease him. Wanting sex from Ian didn’t seem like a good enough reason. Maybe Mickey was agreeing to silence because in the end he just didn’t want to hurt Mandy, either. Who the fuck even knew anymore.

Ian _was_ relieved, though. Mickey wouldn’t let any of this get back to Mandy. He truly believed Mickey would keep his word, for some reason. “Okay,” he breathed, trying to calm down.

“Okay,” Mickey repeated. He was looking up at Ian’s face, searching his eyes. God, Mickey had beautiful fucking eyes.

Ian couldn’t take the tension between them anymore. He needed to break it.

“I’m still not fucking you.” He cracked a grin a few moments after speaking and watched as Mickey smiled a gorgeous smile himself when he understood that Ian was attempting to ease the tension.

“You really are fucking stubborn, huh?” he chuckled.

“I just- I kinda promised Mandy I wouldn’t,” Ian said through gritted teeth. He felt slightly silly about wanting to justify himself to Mickey, but the truth was he was justifying himself _to_ himself. The truth was-- he really wanted Mickey. But he wasn’t going to have him.

“So you’re stubborn as shit _and_ a fucking pussy, I see.” Mickey was smirking, clearly having his fun at Ian’s expense.

“Fuck you I’m a pussy,” Ian said, but there was no bite to it. “I’m just trying to do right by my friend. She asked me to do her a favor and I’m gonna see it through.”

“Even when the jig is up and you’ll just be lying to her about it?”

Mickey had a point, but Ian would never admit to it. Okay then, maybe he _was_ fucking stubborn. Nothing wrong with that.

“Yes, Mickey. I still think it’s the kindest thing to do.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and Ian bit his bottom lip. “Sorry, guess you’ll have to get your rocks off with someone else.”

For a moment, something weird passed through Mickey’s eyes, but he schooled his expression quickly. “Whatever, man, I’m not gonna keep begging you for it. ‘S plenty more dicks in the sea.” He smirked at Ian, his eyebrow raised.

Ian just nodded, looking down at the ground. “Yeah.” He sighed. “Um, so I guess that’s it. You keep this from Mandy, no one tells her anything and she continues to think you all bought me and her were together. Guess we’re done here.”

This didn’t feel right. Ian knew that this was coming, that once he made it clear to Mickey there could be nothing between them, they would have to say goodbye and most likely never see each other again. There would be no reason to, right?

But then why did Ian feel so empty inside at the mere thought of it?

“Guess so,” Mickey answered. He was also looking less than thrilled, not meeting Ian’s eyes and chewing on one corner of his lip.

This was awkward, and uncomfortable. Ian didn’t know how to make his exit, and what was even more frustrating, he didn’t want to. But he was going to stand firm on his decision.

He just needed to get out of here before he completely fucking crumbled.

“Um, okay then, so... I’m gonna go.” Ian looked up from the ground to meet Mickey’s eyes. “Sorry shit got weird with this, it- It was never the plan.”

Ian didn’t know himself what he meant by that. Yeah, things hadn’t gone according to plan. _Obviously_. But more than that, it had never been part of his plan to fall so hard for Mandy’s brother of all people.

“Hey, not your fault, man. Sorry my bitch sister dragged you into this shit.” He grinned. A peace offering.

Ian smiled back. “Yeah, well, she’s my best friend, so… I’m used to it.” He was smiling big now, glad they could at least part like this, without all that weird tension between them.

“Okay, um, well… It was nice to meet you, Mickey.” Mickey responded by snorting. “I mean it.”

Ian looked him deep in the eyes. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to communicate with that look, beyond the sincerity of his statement, but it was something intense, something meaningful.

Mickey kept eye contact for a few seconds, his mouth slightly parted, then he collected himself. Did Ian spot a bit of a blush on his face?

“Yeah, man. Was nice to meet you, too.” Mickey cleared his throat and looked at the ground, until Ian spoke again and caught his attention.

“Okay, uh. Bye, then.” Ian took a step backwards and then turned around to leave.

“See ya,” Mickey told Ian’s back, and he had to do everything in his power not to turn around again, go straight back to Mickey and do something really fucking stupid like take his face with both hands and kiss him, hard.

Ian just shook his head to himself and kept walking. His head was swimming.

 _Fuck_. What a fucking night.

***

Two days later, on Saturday afternoon, Ian was lounging around in his apartment, trying to entertain himself as well as he could. He didn’t feel like going out tonight. Though he didn’t particularly feel like staying in either, bored out of his mind as he looked for something vaguely decent to queue up on Netflix.

He just felt… sad. Not like depressed-sad, that felt different and he knew it wasn’t that. It was the kind of sad you felt when you had experienced a disappointment in life and there was nothing you could do to fix it. That grief for missed opportunities, lost chances. The sense of emptiness when you know your life is missing something but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Mandy had called him earlier, asking him if he wanted to hang out. She said she’d had to run a ton of errands that morning and just wanted to chill for the evening, try to cheer each other up.

Ian had turned the offer down. He felt like being alone, he thought. Or maybe he just didn’t feel like hanging out with her. It wasn’t like he was mad at her, and it wasn’t like she had done anything to warrant it, but he just couldn’t… bear the thought of it all, at the moment. He couldn’t deal with thinking about any Milkoviches right now.

Ian knew that was what this despondency was about. He just couldn’t help replaying that night in his head. The whole conversation with Mickey, how good he had looked, everything. How much of a fucking idiot Ian had been to turn him down. Or maybe he had been right to do it. He truly didn’t fucking know.

What he did know was how he felt about the guy. And he definitely felt even more intensely about him since the other night. Since actually talking to him.

Sure, Mickey had been brash, and rude, and seemingly interested only in fucking Ian and being done with it -- Mandy had warned him that would be the case, after all -- but there had been something else there, Ian knew it.

He couldn’t help but picture what dating Mickey would look like. He cursed his brain, but that didn’t stop it from supplying torturous images to him. He wondered whether they could be friends, at least. Deep down he knew they wouldn’t be able to get over that strange pull between them in order to just be friends, but he wanted them to be _something_. Anything. He couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing him again.

He liked Mickey. Really liked him. Wanted to know more about him. And damn, was he attracted to him.

Ian fruitlessly tried to focus his attention on what was going on on the screen, but he must have passed out at one point, since he suddenly woke up dazed and foggy some time later. He checked his watch and found that it was now a little past 7 on a Saturday night.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch and now he felt like a cranky old man, grumbling to himself as he sat up, thinking there was even less damn chance that he would go out, now. To make matters worse, he had woken up with a slight headache, too. Fucking _great_.

He found the remote and turned off the TV, noticing from the corner of his eye that there was a new text notification on his phone. Ian looked at the object with a frown, not wanting to deal with anyone right now. Whether it was Mandy trying once again to convince him to hang out, or one of his siblings probably wanting to ask for his help with something, he just didn’t have the energy.

Ian contemplated ignoring the message for as long as he possibly could. Maybe he could at least take a shower first, help clear his fuzzy mind, so then he could better cope with whatever bullshit it was. He knew it wasn’t necessarily going to be bad news or something that would only bug him, but he was just feeling down and just not in the mood for human interaction at all right now.

In the end, curiosity won and he picked up his phone. It was a text from an unknown number, and Ian quirked one eyebrow, even more curious now. Who could it possibly be and what could they want?

It took an embarrassingly long time for his brain to catch up to what he was reading.

_Hey there, Freckles. Got your number from Mandy. As in, swiped her phone and got it. Don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it, she still doesn’t suspect shit. Anyway, thought I’d bug ya some more, since it turns out rilin you up is fun as hell and, ya know. Still hopin ya might stop being a stubborn asshole someday. 😉_

Shit.

Well, one thing was clear, even in Ian’s nap-addled brain.

This guy was going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really hope you enjoyed!!!! let me know in the comments <3 <3


	3. Plenty more dicks in the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They text, they flirt, they fight. Ian thinks way too much for his damn good, and Mickey just won't give up on him. Of course, it all ends in bed sharing.
> 
>  **Excerpt:**  
>  **Ian (08:48 PM):** Never said anything about being a good boy. I can bend the rules when I need to. 
> 
> **Ian (08:49 PM):** How ‘bout you, Mick? You a rule-breaker? Those knuckle tats sure seem to suggest so. 
> 
> Ian felt an inexplicable kind of thrill writing down the shortened version of Mickey’s name. _Mick_. It felt more familiar, and like a bit of a provocation to use it right now. A little sexy, maybe. Ian couldn’t wait to call him that in person. 
> 
> **Mickey (08:51 PM):** Damn, Gallagher… can’t wait to hear more about you bending rules and whatnot. 
> 
> **Mickey (08:52 PM):** Yeah, man, broke a few rules in my day. Did some time, too. Walking the straight and narrow now though, so to speak 😉
> 
> **Mickey (08:52 PM):** Why, the whole bad boy thing do it for ya?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope you enjoy this one!!!!! I struggled a bit to get this out and there are still some things I feel weird about, but I'm posting anyway <33
> 
> This one's a bit more angsty, but it should still be fun in places and things get much happier by the end of the chapter, I promise ;))

Fuck.

Ian read the text over and over again, his heart beating fast in his ribcage and his mind getting violently woken up with a surge of adrenaline. The brain fuzziness he had been experiencing after his unscheduled nap was quickly replaced by something else-- a thrill in his veins that, as he was increasingly discovering, seemed to accompany his every interaction with Mickey.

The thrill was not unwelcome. It still confused him-- how someone he had met so recently and knew nothing substantial about, really, could have such a powerful effect on him. But it was a pleasant feeling nonetheless. It made Ian feel alive. It made him feel really fucking good, to be honest. Giddy. Excited.

Oh boy, he was really fucked, wasn’t he?

He had a lot to think about. After reading the text a few more dozen times, like he was attempting to memorize it, Ian resolved to go take that shower. It would probably help him relax a bit, clear his mind further. Plus, it was an activity that would allow him to continue to obsess over Mickey’s words and at the same time try to come up with what to do next. What to _write back_. Jesus.

But not before quickly saving Mickey’s number to his phone.

God, he felt like a thirteen-year-old girl with a crush.

As he went through the motions of his shower, after mindlessly stripping his clothes on the way to the bathroom and getting under the stream once the water turned warm, he tried to unpack the strong reaction he had had just because Mickey texted him.

Sure, Ian had been the one to turn down Mickey’s advances and to insist that nothing could possibly happen between them, stating it as something final-- a decision he wouldn’t ever go back on. And he had meant it then, too. He really thought that had been it, that they would simply never see each other again.

He was convinced they couldn’t risk interacting anymore-- the threat to his friendship with Mandy was too big, and as much as he had thought that maybe he and Mickey could at least be friends, he didn’t actually think the strong, intense attraction they clearly both felt would ever allow it. Plus he wasn’t so sure Mickey would even be interested in that.

And anyway, he would still have to keep the whole thing a secret from Mandy. Though of course, as things stood, he would still have to lie to her regardless, about what Mickey knew and how he found out. But Ian was _trying_ to not make things even more complicated than they needed to be.

Yet, the sadness that filled him at the thought of having said goodbye to Mickey for good had turned out to be pretty much unbearable. It’s not like he didn’t think he would eventually have gotten over it, given enough time, but it was still all too intense to ignore. As were the giddy feelings he had experienced when Mickey got in contact with him.

So yeah, it had been Ian’s decision, and two days ago, Mickey had seemed to agree to it. But now Mickey was on the offensive again. He wasn’t going to give up, apparently. That awakened something in Ian-- something that told him that maybe he shouldn’t give up on Mickey either. That maybe it was worth it to pursue this, at least a bit, and see where it could go.

There was nothing wrong with answering Mickey’s text, was there? It could all be perfectly innocent-- it was just texting after all.

It didn’t _have_ to lead to anything else. They would just be talking. And Ian _had_ enjoyed talking to Mickey the other night. He fucking _liked_ him, and it definitely went beyond just physical attraction for him.

Could it be the same for Mickey? After all, you don’t try so hard for a guy you just want to fuck once and then never see again in your life. Sure, Ian knew he was attractive-- and hell, for all he knows Mickey might just have a thing for redheads, which _could_ explain why he was so fixated on banging Ian. But come on.

There had _got_ to be something more there, for Mickey to be this persistent. It couldn’t all just be about an itch that only Ian could scratch, right?

Everything else aside, Ian realized that really, his decision was already made. He was aware that all he was doing in his head right now was trying to find ways to justify to himself that he was, absolutely, going to text Mickey back, and start some kind of dialog with him.

That wasn’t in question. He was doing this.

He wasn’t going to let Mickey slip through his fingers-- not now that this opportunity had presented itself, in the form of Mickey going out of his way to keep some kind of communication open between them. Ian wasn’t going to close the door on him, not when he felt so intensely about the man. He wasn’t going to deny himself this.

Whatever it would turn out to be. Because Ian wasn’t saying he would suddenly just jump into bed with the guy. They would just… talk. He would take things slow, go at a pace he was comfortable with. He wanted to get to know Mickey and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. Maybe they could turn out to be friends after all. Ian didn’t know if it was possible, but he was willing to give it a try.

As he got out of the shower and began drying off with a towel, he started feeling better and better about this. He focused on the tingly feeling that Mickey’s physical presence the other day, and the mere thought of him now, had instilled in him. He thought about the teasing tone of Mickey’s text, the way he’d said he liked _riling Ian up_ , the fucking winky face emoji at the end. Ian was even a sucker for the nicknames, for some reason feeling bashful at being called fucking _Freckles_ of all things. Everything about Mickey was simultaneously so rough around the edges and just so _damn cute_. Ian was a goner.

He kept smiling the whole time until he was back sitting on his couch in his living room, wearing only an old shirt and a pair of boxers, with the phone in his hand. He grinned as he read Mickey’s text once more, suddenly thinking of how glad he was that he had decided not to go out tonight.

When Mickey’s message first came, a familiar panic had him thinking he should leave his apartment for a bit -- go for a walk at least -- so he could distract himself from the temptation of immediately texting Mickey back and falling down that rabbit hole. He felt like he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, afraid as he was of both overthinking this to death and of doing something impulsive.

He got like this sometimes. Went into panic mode and didn’t trust his own decisions. It was likely an after effect of his bipolar diagnosis, and there wasn’t much he could do but live with it. Thankfully, he had learnt how to deal with it better-- how to take a deep breath, clear his mind and go through his thoughts and feelings one by one, getting to a place of calm where he could take his time making decisions that wouldn’t feel rushed or irrational.

So yeah, Ian was glad he had the rest of the night to talk to Mickey, if the man was into it. He turned his TV on again, finding something to have as background while he got ready to finally text Mickey back.

He tried not to spend too much time on deciding what to say and just went with it.

 **Ian (8:23 PM):** Fuck you, I’m not stubborn.

 **Ian (8:24 PM):** You, though. You’re pretty relentless, huh?

There. It seemed to Ian like this way they would basically be picking up the conversation where they left it off the other night. Only this time Ian was going to be more forthcoming. Only a little. He was definitely not going to suggest that they cut all contact with each other, this time.

He wanted Mickey to be part of his life. He was going to chase that thrill and see where it led.

As he waited for Mickey to reply, he went to fix himself some dinner, putting the leftovers from the night before into the microwave. A few minutes later he returned to the couch, setting his plate of food on the coffee table.

Truth be told, he was feeling a bit nervous. He and Mickey had had an easy back-and-forth the couple of times they had actually spoken to each other, and the other night especially felt like proof that they could sustain a conversation and not be all that awkward around one another-- if you forget the fact that most of it had consisted in Ian yelling at Mickey and being annoyed with him. But there had been potential there.

What if that didn’t translate over text, though? What if it had really just been a fluke, and once Ian relented a bit and wasn’t being so confrontational, it all fell apart between them? What if Mickey discovered he wasn’t all that fun to rile up after all? What if--

And there Ian went overthinking again.

He just wanted them to have a little fun with this. He thought Mickey was funny as hell, even though obviously he couldn’t fully appreciate it back when Mickey was messing with him and trying to trip him up into admitting he wasn’t Mandy’s boyfriend. But now all the cards were finally on the table. Maybe they would bicker a bit, since that seemed to be kind of their dynamic, but that could also come with a side of flirting?

God. Ian’s heart was beating fast again. He couldn’t wait for Mickey to reply.

He tried to distract himself by taking a few bites of his dinner. He was busy chewing when his phone pinged with a text notification.

Ian would have been embarrassed by how fast he reached for his phone, but. Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone was around to see him being an overeager idiot.

He tried to swallow and not choke on his food as he read the text.

 **Mickey (8:39 PM):** Hey, you want me to back off, I’ll back off, man 🤨

 **Mickey (8:39 PM):** Though you did text me back, which is more than I thought you would. Maybe there’s hope yet 😏

These emojis were going to kill Ian. They seemed to capture Mickey’s range of facial expressions with alarming accuracy-- expressions that Ian was already intimately acquainted with. Maybe it was just that the image of Mickey smirking seductively was branded on his brain to the point that he could see it clear as day in his mind’s eye even now. And his scowl, too. It was so inexplicably _cute_.

The other thing Ian appreciated was how the first of the two texts seemed to immediately give Ian the choice to stop the whole thing right then and there. Yeah, Mickey was pursuing him, but he would back off if Ian wanted him to. He wouldn’t keep hassling him if he felt uncomfortable. Ian felt a warmth inside him at the thought.

He liked _grumpy_ Mickey, he liked _brash_ Mickey, but he was particularly intrigued to see more of _sweet_ Mickey. Ian had caught glimpses of him so far, and honestly he craved more.

Anyway, time to reply.

 **Ian (08:44 PM):** You’re really gonna take the fact I replied as a sign I’ll give in and decide to fuck you? Wow, man 😐

 **Ian (08:45 PM):** ‘Course I texted you back, it’d be really rude of me to just ignore you, right?

 **Mickey (08:46 PM):** Ah, right. So I just owe this to you being too polite to tell me to fuck off then, huh?

 **Mickey (08:46 PM):** Too bad you’re such a good boy. We could’ve had some real fun otherwise.

Ian found himself blushing.

What the fuck.

Sure, Mickey was shamelessly teasing him, and the mention of Ian being _a good boy_ was… interesting. But this wasn’t hardcore stuff. Ian had read (and written) so much worse texting guys on Grindr. For some reason, though, coming from Mickey everything was always ten thousand times more intense. Ian was left feeling warm all over.

He took another bite of food, chewing slowly, and sat back on his couch, relaxing into it.

 **Ian (08:48 PM):** Never said anything about being a good boy. I can bend the rules when I need to.

 **Ian (08:49 PM):** How ‘bout you, Mick? You a rule-breaker? Those knuckle tats sure seem to suggest so.

Ian felt an inexplicable kind of thrill writing down the shortened version of Mickey’s name. _Mick_. It felt more familiar, and like a bit of a provocation to use it right now. A little sexy, maybe. Ian couldn’t wait to call him that in person.

 **Mickey (08:51 PM):** Damn, Gallagher… can’t wait to hear more about you bending rules and whatnot.

 **Mickey (08:52 PM):** Yeah, man, broke a few rules in my day. Did some time, too. Walking the straight and narrow now though, so to speak 😉

 **Mickey (08:52 PM):** Why, the whole bad boy thing do it for ya?

If they kept this up, Ian was going to need another shower soon. A cold one, this time.

Mickey wanted to hear more about him bending rules _and whatnot_? Was that referencing what Ian thought it was referencing? Or was his horny mind reading too much into things?

Images of him bending Mickey over the very couch he was sitting on had his head spinning for a few seconds.

Yeah, the whole bad boy thing _did_ do it for him. At least when the bad boy in question was Mickey.

He took a deep breath and tried to regain some sort of composure.

This wasn’t exactly going to plan. Had Ian not decided to take it slow, see if they could maybe be friends? A little flirting was okay, but this was going into dangerous territory. He felt like he was on the brink of giving Mickey his address and having him come over to hook up right this second.

He had to try steering the conversation to something safer. Maybe just to something they had in common. And no referencing their mutual attraction to each other. Or any sex acts, if it was possible.

 **Ian (08:55 PM):** I am Southside after all. Never could stand the preppy, uptight asshole type.

 **Ian (08:55 PM):** Usually prefer to associate with people who’ve been around the same fucked up mean streets as I have.

 **Mickey (08:57 PM):** Hmm, know what you mean. Swear some guys’ll find a way to bore you to death talking bout their daddy’s trust fund even while you got your dick down their throat

So much for not mentioning sex acts. Though he supposed this one wasn’t even hypothetically mentioned as happening between him and Mickey. As it turned out, though, Ian didn’t acutally like imagining Mickey having sex with anyone else. Not at all.

 **Ian (08:59 PM):** You fuck a lot of guys with trust funds?

 **Mickey (09:01 PM):** A few. They definitely seem to like the bad boy type 😏

 **Mickey (09:01 PM):** Why? You jealous?

Shit. Ian _was_ jealous. Of a guy he technically had no intention to pursue at the moment. He had no right to be jealous, and yet there the truth was. This realization was kind of fucking with him, to be honest.

 **Ian (09:03 PM):** Nah. Not like I’m a monk or anything myself, man.

 **Ian (09:04 PM):** Like I said, I just tend to be more picky about the dudes I fuck.

 **Ian (09:04 PM):** Make sure I don’t 100 percent hate them and everything they represent before we get down to it.

 **Mickey (09:05 PM):** Man, fuck bein picky.

 **Mickey (09:05 PM):** Like, for real? Even when you know you’re never gonna see em again?

 **Ian (09:06 PM):** Even then.

 **Ian (09:06 PM):** Wanting to sock them in the mouth as soon as they open it to speak is not exactly the biggest turn on for me, I guess.

 **Mickey (09:08 PM):** 🤨

 **Mickey (09:08 PM):** You never learnt to tune that shit out? Plus if they’re really that annoying, they’re getting fucking decked in the face anyway. Not gonna feel sorry about it either.

Ian was starting to get a little annoyed too, if he was honest with himself. He guessed they had come to what he imagined was probably the biggest obstacle to them having any kind of future together. The fact that Ian was ultimately looking for a relationship -- and casually fucked guys who he could at least stand to talk to for five minutes beforehand, _Jesus_ \-- while Mickey was really exactly the hit ‘em and quit ‘em type that Mandy had previously described to him.

Ian shouldn’t have been surprised, and he wasn’t, really. He just felt discouraged. It wasn’t only that he was longing for someone he could date. He wanted to date _Mickey_. But the guy clearly had other plans.

Ian decided -- maybe foolishly -- to try to poke the bear.

 **Ian (09:12 PM):** I guess we’re just different like that.

 **Ian (09:13 PM):** I enjoy the sex more if I manage to make some sort of connection with the guy first.

 **Ian (09:13 PM):** And hopefully someday I’ll find someone I’m actually into. Someone who could be worth getting to know better.

 **Mickey (09:15 PM):** Ah, you’re the relationship type. Figures.

 **Ian (09:15 PM):** Fuck is that supposed to mean?

 **Mickey (09:16 PM):** Nothin, just that it’s a shame, man.

 **Ian (09:16 PM):** Not your kinda thing, then?

 **Mickey (09:17 PM):** Nah. Datin’s for pussies anyway.

Ian was fuming. He felt his face getting warm, but this time for a very different reason than at the start of their texting session.

 **Ian (09:17 PM):** Fuck you, Mickey. I’m not a pussy for wanting something beyond just a fuck.

 **Ian (09:18 PM):** If anything you’re the fucking coward. You don’t have the balls to get real with someone, probably too scared they’ll find out you’re just an asshole anyway

 **Mickey (09:19 PM):** Hey, no fuck you, man. You don’t know shit about me so don’t go pretendin like you do

 **Ian (09:19 PM):** That’s what you’re doing with me, isn’t it? I’m the ‘relationship type’ so I must be a pussy, right

 **Mickey (09:20 PM):** Never said you were a pussy, said datin is for pussies

 **Ian (09:21 PM):** We really gonna argue semantics?

 **Ian (09:21 PM):** I’m so fucking done with this conversation

 **Mickey (09:23 PM):** Quit textin me then. Ain’t no one forcin you to talk to me, princess

 **Ian (09:24 PM):** Gladly.

 **Ian (09:24 PM):** You know what? You’re a fucking prick, Mickey.

 **Mickey (09:25 PM):** Yeah, you ain’t no prize either, sunshine

Ian threw his phone on the other side of the couch, furious and frustrated with the guy who less than an hour earlier had made him feel worked up in a way no one else had done in years. Maybe ever. And all of this via text. He wondered how it was possible for someone to elicit such strong, contrasting feelings within you in the space of an hour without even being in the same room as you. Without even hearing his voice.

Well, whatever. Fuck this guy, honestly. Ian had previously thought that Mickey’s rude attitude was all kinds of charming, but he was seriously reconsidering now. Mickey could live his life how he fucking wanted, but there was no reason to be that much of a dick to people who want to date and have a boyfriend. To Ian, specifically.

His anger turned into sadness momentarily, as he thought back to the images he had already formed in his head about what he and Mickey dating would have looked like. God, what a fucking idiot he’d been. He chuckled sourly at the thought.

One thing was for certain, Ian wasn’t going to be contacting Mickey again, and he had a feeling the other man wouldn’t text him anymore either, after the fight they just had. It was the sort of thing two people who knew each other better and were clear about what they were to one another could probably get past pretty easily. It was just a little name-calling, after all.

But they didn’t know each other, not really. And the fight had been about something pretty major that pertained to the very nature of their potential relationship.

Simply put, Ian wanted to _get to know_ Mickey. Yes, he was attracted to him, but he didn’t want to fuck him once and be done with it. Sue him, but he wanted a chance at having an actual relationship with Mickey.

And the thing is, this was no small thing to Ian. He hadn’t dated anyone in more than a year, and he hadn’t _wanted_ to date anyone for all this time. No one he had met seemed like they were worth the effort and he hadn’t felt any kind of spark. But he did now. With someone who, as goddamn frustrating as he could be, felt _right_ to Ian. For some fucking reason.

Not to mention the whole Mandy situation. He was already going to be lying to his best friend about Mickey and the others knowing Ian’s gay, and he would have to lie to her about starting up something with Mickey too, if that ended up happening. He would feel like absolute shit if he’d have to do that just for a one-night stand with her brother, simply because the two of them couldn’t keep it in their pants.

No, he wanted to first see if he and Mickey could build some sort of a relationship, and then he’d come clean to Mandy. At that point she’d see they had no choice but to lie, because they were clearly in love and shit, and would forgive the whole thing.

Yeah. Ian was aware his brain was moving fast, with this whole _in love_ business. His imagination could run wild with scenarios sometimes-- he was a foolish romantic at heart. But that was simply the depth of his feelings towards Mickey. He really believed they could get there, if Mickey wasn’t such a dick about it.

Ian knew that wasn’t fair. He was mad at Mickey being dismissive about people who choose to date, not at the fact that Mickey didn’t. He was just sad about that, because it meant there was no chance for them. They simply wanted different things. And it’s not like that was a surprise. Mandy had warned him that Mickey didn’t date.

There was just nothing to be done about it. Ian’s anger deflated, turning into disappointment and, he was surprised to discover, a sense of tiredness that he felt deep in his bones.

It was barely ten o’clock when he slowly got up from his couch and made his way to his bedroom. He decided to just get into bed and pray sleep would come soon, despite gloomy thoughts weighing heavy on his mind.

He hoped he wouldn’t dream about Mickey.

Oh, who was he kidding? Of fucking course he hoped he would. At least in his dreams he could still see him, and that gave him some kind of peace.

***

Monday morning found Ian exhausted and with very little patience for the little frustrations of daily life. The train that just wouldn’t come after he had just missed the previous one, making him late to work of course. His boss giving him shit about it and Ian being unreasonably unable to yell at her to fucking get over herself. The coffee maker in the break room very nearly leaking all over him when he tried to pour himself a cup. Everyone and everything seemed to have it in for him, particularly today.

He had spent the whole previous day with his family, trying to distract himself as much as he could from his sour mood by attending a classic Gallagher barbecue and playing all day long with the little ones. He had managed to divert his attention from unwanted thoughts for most of the time, but his mind kept drifting back to Mickey way too often for his liking. He hoped it would get better in time, though he wasn’t betting on it.

On top of that, today Ian would see Mandy again. Not that he wouldn’t be happy to spend time with his best friend-- the only breath of fresh air at his stuffy place of work, the one who always managed to put a smile on his face with her snarky attitude and refreshing genuineness. But he wasn’t looking forward to having to lie to her if the subject of her little scheme came up. And he was afraid thoughts of Mickey would become even more intrusive in the presence of the man’s sister.

God, things had gotten so complicated.

Ian couldn’t really find it in himself to regret it, though. He didn’t regret meeting Mickey. The guy had made him _feel_ something after a long period of numbness, which he had most definitely welcomed, even though it brought with it a lot of unforeseen complications and negative feelings.

But he still couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Speak of the devil, he watched Mandy sauntering over to his desk, a warm grin on her face. Ian figured she was going to ask him to take their break together. He’d been more than ready to take a break for at least half an hour at this point, so he grinned back at her as much as his tired and agitated mind would allow, saved his work on his computer, and got up to follow her to the break room.

*

“Hey so, I went out with Sandy last night.”

Ian almost choked on his decaf. The mere mention of one of the Milkoviches, even if it wasn’t the man himself, had him immediately thinking back to the last night he spent with them and to his texting conversation with Mickey on Saturday.

He hoped Mickey had talked to Sandy like he said, and that after the whole debacle he wouldn’t go back on deciding to keep it all a secret from Mandy. No, Ian _knew_ he wouldn’t. He wasn’t worried about that, not really. Call him an idiot, but he thought he knew Mickey enough to be sure about this.

“Oh, yeah?” He didn’t know if he had the energy to come up with a better response.

Mandy nodded, swallowing a sip of her own coffee. “Yeah. At first she was kinda asking me all these questions about you and I almost shit myself thinking she was onto us.” She paused, and Ian’s heart rate sped up considerably, waiting for her to continue. “But then she said something like, I don’t know-- she’s happy I found someone decent, and she’s sorry she’s given me such a hard time before. I mean, she was pretty hammered at that point, but I still think it was sweet.” Mandy was smiling to herself, looking pleased.

For his part, Ian could only attempt to relax his agitated nerves.

Nothing was amiss. Everything was going to plan. Sandy had done her part to keep the secret, and Mandy was happy. That was what was important.

“Hey, you okay?”

He looked up to see a slightly concerned frown on her face. He realized he’d stayed silent after Mandy spoke and generally wasn’t contributing much to the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Had an interesting weekend?” Ian’s heart rate spiked up again, paranoid about being found out, but Mandy’s expression was neutral. He reminded himself that it was just an innocent question, even if it was right on the mark. His weekend _had_ been interesting. That was a good word for it, actually.

“Not really,” he lied. “Spent Saturday just lounging around watching Netflix, and then yesterday I went to the house and hung around all day with the whole Gallagher clan. Nothing too exciting.” He gave her what he hoped was a convincing smile.

She nodded. “Gotcha. Hey, if you feel up to it, we could hit up a club again this week. Maybe on Thursday? Start the weekend early?” She wiggled her brows at him.

Ian knew she meant go to a gay club together. It was something they did often, but at the moment he wasn’t really feeling it. Who knows how he’d be feeling in a few days, though. He might even have decided to hook up with someone to try fucking Mickey out of his system by then. Of course at the moment the thought only managed to make him sad and vaguely nauseous.

He summoned all his energy to put on an expression of excitement on his face and smirked. “Oh, fuck yeah. Never too early to start the weekend, am I right?”

***

As it turned out, they didn’t go out that Thursday.

Or rather, they did, but they didn’t go clubbing. Much like on Monday and the rest of the week, Ian wasn’t feeling up to it, yet he still wanted to hang out with Mandy. She’d been wanting to watch a movie that recently came out -- some kind of World War Two drama that Ian was not able to focus on _at all_ \-- so they went to the movies and then came back to Ian’s place to eat pizza and have a couple of beers.

Now it was Friday night and Mandy had tried to get him to go out again. The actual weekend had started after all, but Ian was still feeling pretty emotionally drained and was looking forward to a quiet night in, if he was honest. So he lied to her and said that he had plans to hang out with Lip.

He felt bad about it, but he reasoned that he just needed some time to get out of this funk. After that, things would go back to normal. Ian and Mandy would resume spending their nights slutting around the town together (her words, that’s what she liked to call it) and he would stop with this frankly unhealthy fixation on her brother. He didn’t think he’d forget all about Mickey anytime soon, but maybe he would think about him a little less often at some point.

He was laying on his couch, watching some nature documentary on his TV and growing increasingly sleepy, about to just call it a night and get up to go to bed. It was after midnight after all, though it was Friday night and Ian was 23, not an 80-year-old man like you might suspect if you saw him right now. Whatever. He’d be young and sociable some other night.

He was feeling restless, though. The more he stayed up the more the sleepiness faded and his mind began to wander. Ian eyed his phone with a frown and after a few more seconds of hesitation he snatched it from the coffee table.

Thing is, he had reread his and Mickey’s text conversation multiple times in the past week. Ian knew he was just torturing himself, but he couldn’t help it. Most of the time he forced himself to only read the first half of it -- the flirty, sexy half -- especially at night when he was already in bed feeling lonely and in need of a little warmth.

Other times he obsessively went over the rest of it, trying to see if there was a point where he could have stopped himself provoking Mickey, or if maybe he overreacted or he might have misunderstood what Mickey was saying. Trying to determine if they could have avoided all the nastiness and stayed civil. At times Ian blamed himself for the direction the conversation had taken, and other times he got so pissed at Mickey he nearly threw his phone at the wall.

He had read and reread and thought about it until he got a headache. It never solved anything, but that wasn’t going to stop him from torturing himself some more now, it would seem.

He started scrolling through the initial texts they exchanged and immediately got a rush of adrenaline that made him feel like he was high. Fuck, the things this man did to him, with just a few texts. Texts that Ian already knew by heart, at that.

Ian was happily going down the text thread, his mind freely running with scenarios of the two of them together as he did so, when the phone started buzzing in his hand.

His heart gave a jolt, followed by increasingly rapid beating, as he realized he had an incoming call. More than that, the name displayed on the screen was none other than Mickey’s.

Panic shot through Ian’s veins, accompanied by paranoid thoughts that Mickey must somehow know he’d been laying there reading their texts, or at the very least, that he had been thinking about him. Ian quickly dismissed those ridiculous thoughts and focused on wondering why the hell Mickey would be calling him right now.

 _Now_ , almost a week after their latest interaction, which Ian had begrudgingly assumed would be their last. Now, 23 minutes after midnight on a Friday night. And _calling him_ , instead of texting him. What would Mickey possibly have to say?

Ian was holding the phone with both hands, which had started trembling slightly.

Well. Better pick up before it stopped ringing.

Ian cleared his throat, where his heart was currently lodged, and brought the phone to his ear.

“Mickey?” Damn it, his voice was shaky as hell, and he had the vague thought that it felt good to say that name again. _Jesus, get a fucking grip, Ian._

“Gallagher...” God, that felt good, too. Mickey’s voice sounded strange and slurred though, and Ian realized there was loud music in the background of the call. “‘Sup, man? Just callin’ to let you know how much fun I’ve been havin’ without ya.”

Ian was still trying to process what was happening. “Huh? Mickey, are you drunk right now?” Mickey was definitely drunk, and he was calling Ian from a bar or a club, by the sounds of it.

Mickey made a sound, probably trying to scoff. “Had a few whiskeys, so what? Can hold my damn liquor, boy scout. Don’t need _you_ to shit on my fun just ‘cos you don’t know how to get that big fuckin’ stick outta your ass.”

Ian tried to rein in his anger, but he was gritting his teeth with the effort. “Mickey. Where are you right now?”

“At a fairy club, about to get me some non-judgemental dick.” He snickered, clearly very amused at his own words. “Why, what do _you_ care?”

Ian was momentarily stumped. Thing is, he did care. He cared very much. Without even realizing what he was doing, he was suddenly getting up from the couch and moving in the direction of the bedroom to find some clothes to put on.

He ignored Mickey’s question and just asked what he needed to know, loud enough for the other man to hear over the music and know that he expected a clear answer. “What fairy club, Mickey? Tell me what club.”

*

After some more drunken slurring and resistance on Mickey’s part, Ian managed to establish that the man was in fact at the Fairy Tail, of all places. As quickly as he could, Ian got himself dressed and ordered an Uber, finally getting to the club a little before 1 am.

On the ride there, he had plenty of time to think about what he was doing. He had been in a kind of daze since Mickey’s call, his movements automated like his mind didn’t have time to catch up to the decisions his body was making. But now his brain was fully up to speed, and it was making him dizzy with questions.

Why _was_ he going there? Was it just out of jealousy, or did he think he was somehow going to _save_ Mickey? From what, from making terrible decisions while hammered? Did Ian have any right to stop him from doing whatever or _whoever_ the hell he was going to do?

But then, Mickey had called Ian. Another terrible drunken decision, probably, but Mickey was thinking about him. While he was in a club, getting drunk and presumably debating whether to go looking for a fuck. Maybe having second thoughts about it _because_ he was thinking about Ian.

As mad as they were at each other, it seemed neither of them could stop thinking about the other man.

Well, fuck it. He was in it, now. He was doing this. He just hoped he’d be able to find Mickey quickly once he got there.

*

The place was packed. Ian had sudden and uncomfortable flashbacks about his previous life in this club as soon as he stepped through the door. The blaring music and the flashing lights overstimulated his senses and filled him with a slight sensation of nausea.

Shit. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on all that. He needed to find Mickey.

After making his way through the sea of bodies on the dancefloor, he stopped in front of the bar, hopeful Mickey would be in the vicinity. Ian’s eyes moved frantically around, scanning the handful of people sitting on the stools or standing near them, looking for any sign of Mickey.

Ian finally spotted him at one end of the bar, leaning back on the counter with one elbow while his other arm was outstretched, seemingly to keep the guy hovering over him at a safe distance. Ian saw red and immediately stomped towards the two.

Mickey had looked uncomfortable and pissed off at the guy, but as soon as he locked eyes with Ian over the stranger’s shoulder, his whole demeanor changed. Ian watched him use the hand he was pushing the man away with to instead pull him in by the shirt, while Mickey’s features instantly softened until he was giving the tall, blonde, muscular douchebag the bedroom eyes.

Ian was seething. He could not believe Mickey was doing this right now.

He took two more steps towards them and got entirely too close for comfort. Blondie, who was looking very pleased until a moment ago, turned his head towards the new arrival with a scowl on his face. “Can I help you with something?” The irritation was dripping from his tone.

Ian just kept his eyes on Mickey, who was still looking at Douchebag with a dopey grin, refusing to even glance at him.

Douchebag turned back to look at Mickey. “Hey, are we doing this or what?”

With droopy eyes focused on the guy’s lips, Mickey pulled him in closer still by his shirt and angled his head. “Fuck yeah, we’re doing this. C’mere.”

Sorry, _what_?

Was Mickey really going to go ahead and kiss this asshole right in front of Ian?

Oh. Hell. No.

Ian quickly reached one hand between them and pushed Blondie away from Mickey after forcefully grabbing his shoulder.

“Hey, dude, what the fuck?!” Douchenozzle tried to shove back Ian by the shoulder too, but Ian was quicker and grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him.

As soon as Ian let go of his wrist, the guy pulled it protectively towards himself, massaging it with his other hand. “You fucking asshole,” he muttered sullenly. “Whatever, man, I’m out of here.” And with that, he was gone.

Mickey was chuckling to himself, his eyes closed. When he opened them they were heavy-lidded and he proceeded to look Ian up and down, though it was clear he had some trouble focusing. “Damn, Gallagher. Fuckin’ tough guy, huh?” He chuckled some more.

Ian wasn’t having as much fun, possibly because, unlike Mickey, he was stone-cold sober. “What the fuck, Mickey? Were you just gonna make out with that guy in front of me?”

Mickey’s previously relaxed features turned into a scowl. “What’s it to ya? Can do whatever the fuck I want, you ain’t the boss of me.” He seemed to lose his steam at the end of that and just sighed, his face softening again. “The fuck you want from me, man, huh? You won’t fuck me, you call me a prick, now you come here and you won’t let me fuck anyone else either? Fuck am I supposed to do here?”

“ _I_ called you a prick? You called me a pussy first!” Ian was basically yelling, and it wasn’t just so he could be heard over the music.

Mickey snorted. “Call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Ian knew there was no way he could have a coherent conversation with Mickey in this state. He would have been endeared by how giggly Mickey apparently got when he had a few too many if it wasn’t for the fact that they needed to talk seriously.

About why Mickey called, about why Ian showed up. About where to go from here.

But yeah, that wasn’t happening tonight.

“Let me take you home.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and his lips broke into a huge grin. “You change your mind? Gonna finally _bend the rules_ on me, big guy?” He wiggled his eyebrows for good measure.

“What? No.” Ian saw disappointment flash on Mickey’s face. He damn near pouted, in fact. “You’re fucking wasted, which means you shouldn’t be having sex with anyone tonight. Come on, let me just bring you home.”

Mickey seemed to consider this. Then he perked up. “That the only reason you wouldn’t let me bang that douchebag? Hm? That the only reason you came?”

“It’s not the only reason,” Ian said seriously. No use denying it now. There was a good chance Mickey wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning, anyway. “But it is the reason I’m not leaving you here alone now.”

“‘m not some fuckin’ chick, man. Don’t need you to rescue me from big scary dudes. Can handle myself just fine.” Mickey tried to take what was probably meant to be a warning step towards him, but all it did was prove Ian’s point. Mickey stopped his movements, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He also reached his arm out to wrap one hand around Ian’s bicep in order to keep his balance.

It was the first actual physical contact they’d ever experienced between them, if you don’t count the brushing of fingertips when they had shared a smoke that one time. Ian felt a tingle all up his arm and moved his eyes from the spot where they were touching to Mickey’s face, feeling the strangest sense of protectiveness towards him.

In that moment, he just wanted to make sure he was safe. He just wanted to take care of him.

“Come on,” he said, touching Mickey’s shoulder gently. “Let’s get you home.”

*

The Uber ride to Mickey’s place was tense, at least on Ian’s part. Mickey was preoccupied with sudden attacks of nausea, more than anything else. Ian, however, was spiraling with anxiety. He had sort of already decided he would end up staying at Mickey’s for the night. He just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone tonight.

The whole thing was messing with his mind, though. What the fuck was he doing? He thought he would have to forget about Mickey forever, until only two hours ago. And now he was going to see his apartment, he was going to _sleep_ there. Things had changed pretty quickly, and his rational mind was struggling to keep up, as usual.

But he wasn’t going to let it torture him now. This was happening, he was doing this. He felt the need to take care of Mickey, and he damn sure would. He also really needed to talk to the man when he was more lucid, so the following morning would be perfect for that.

Yes, he was done overanalyzing everything. He was going to follow his own needs and instincts for once.

And -- he thought as he looked at an even paler than usual Mickey -- at the moment all he wanted was simply to make sure this man was safe and that he was happy.

*

As soon as they got in through the door, Ian helped Mickey make his way through his apartment without bumping into furniture or tripping over things. Mickey cursed every two steps but didn’t give any indication that Ian’s touches and the help he supplied to keep the man upright were unwelcome. In fact Mickey clinged on tight to Ian, which sent Ian’s heart racing rapidly.

When they got to the bedroom, Mickey detached himself from Ian and slumped onto the bed. After a few moments, he started struggling to remove his clothes, and Ian honestly didn’t know what to do here. He had no idea if he should assist him or leave him be, so he just stood there in the doorway awkwardly watching and glancing away when he felt like a creep.

In the end Mickey managed to take off his shoes and pants at least and left on only his t-shirt and boxers. He got under the covers and Ian thought this was his cue to exit the room, find the couch in the living room and pass out on it.

So he took two steps towards Mickey’s bed and got his attention before he drifted off. “Hey, I’m gonna crash on the couch, alright? Just shout if you need anything.”

Ian was turning on the spot to make his way out of the room when a hand shot out and weakly gripped around his wrist.

“Stay. Please.”

Ian was gaping at him. Mickey had his eyes closed and he didn’t seem to have any intention of letting go of him. “What- What d’you mean? In the bed with you?”

Mickey still didn’t open his eyes. “‘S a big bed. Promise I ain’t gonna molest you or any shit like that.” He smiled then, and it was beautiful.

Ian had no choice but to comply. “Okay,” he breathed, at which point Mickey finally released his wrist. Ian made his way to the other side of the bed. He quickly disrobed and discarded his own shoes and jeans, tentatively getting into bed and positioning himself on his side, faced towards Mickey.

For a few moments, he just listened to him breathe, watching the back of his head in the near darkness. It brought him a sense of calm to be in bed with Mickey like this. Then Mickey turned on his other side, facing Ian now.

He didn’t open his eyes. Ian, on the other hand, didn’t know how he was going to bring himself to ever close them tonight. Mickey was just so damn beautiful.

There was plenty of space between them-- it was a big bed alright, like Mickey had said. Ian couldn’t help but scoot over, though, just a little bit. After a few minutes of just looking at his face, Ian reached out his hand to comb back a strand of hair that had fallen on Mickey’s forehead, almost reaching his eye.

His hair was so soft, and Mickey leaned into Ian’s touch. Something squeezed his heart at that. Ian didn’t know if Mickey was sleeping or not, whether that had been a conscious or an unconscious gesture. Ian was stunned, either way.

He was pretty sure not a lot of people got to see Mickey like this. So unguarded, soft and vulnerable. Ian thought he was pretty damn lucky at this moment in time.

And maybe it was this right here, or maybe it was the events of the whole night, or maybe it was the way he had missed the man through the whole week when they had cut all contact with each other.

Whatever it was, Ian promised himself one thing right then and there.

He was not giving up on the chance to know Mickey. Not ever again.

Not for anything in the world.


	4. A night to remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wake up together in bed. Ian _likes_ him. Mickey agrees to a date. _Things_ happen.
> 
>  **Excerpt:**  
>  Mickey’s lips broke out into a blissful smile. “You’re such a cocktease, Gallagher. Knowin’ you, the most I’ll get after the first date is a lil’ hand holding.”
> 
> “Aww, you wanna hold my hand, Mick?” Ian was having way too much fun teasing him like this.
> 
> Mickey just responded with his middle finger up in the air.
> 
> “Anyway, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. You might just end up getting lucky tonight, big guy”. Ian sent him an exaggerated wink for added effect, because why the fuck not?
> 
> Mickey was frowning. “Eat me.”
> 
> “Can do,” Ian offered. “ _After_ the date, though.” He noticed the side of Mickey’s mouth quirking up at that. “Is that a yes, then? That sounds like a yes to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, guys!! This is a big one, I feel, and hopefully I've managed to do justice to the important steps they take within their relationship here. Also heads up, I've changed the rating because of the ending.

Ian opened his eyes slowly, getting them used to the faint light coming in through the blinds and quickly realizing that he wasn’t in his apartment. He was disoriented for only a few moments, before flashes of the previous night shot through his brain and he immediately felt like he could relax.

Right. He was in Mickey’s bed.

Though this definitely wasn’t the set of circumstances he’d thought would eventually lead him here, Ian felt a sense of elation nonetheless. Some kind of peace, even. It felt right being here.

That could also be due to another sensation he registered even before turning his head to look at the man beside him. Mickey was on his side, an arm outstretched towards him and a hand wrapped securely around Ian’s bicep.

Ian couldn’t help but smile dopily at the thought that Mickey had reached out for him like that in his sleep. He was overwhelmed by a rush of feelings for the man, as he looked at his soft expression while he slept and listened to the gentle sounds of his breathing. Mickey’s hand felt warm and comforting around his arm, and the gesture seemed to Ian far more intimate than a lot of other things they could have done in this bed last night instead.

So that’s how Ian ended up spending a frankly creepy amount of time just watching him. Taking in the details of his face, everything he could see. Eyelids, eyelashes, the perfect slope of his nose, those pretty lips, his jawline, and a hint of collarbones where they were visible through his neckline.

He admired his outstretched arm-- with the pale skin, blondish hair and smattering of faint freckles, the knuckle tats on the fingers closing in on Ian’s arm, the word _fuck_ which was part of the warning _fuck u up_ much less rude and threatening now that it was part of such a soft gesture.

Pretty much the rest of Mickey’s body was covered by the bedsheet, but Ian’s eyes just drank in all they could. He was so grateful for this opportunity to just admire him. Mickey was so damn beautiful, particularly like this.

Part of Ian thought this vantage point might also help him do a better job of trying to uncover the man’s secrets. He’d already reflected last night on how Mickey’s drunken -- and then sleepy -- state had made him considerably more unguarded and open with Ian. He’d definitely shown a huge amount of vulnerability. More than Ian had ever seen in him before, anyway.

And now Ian got to see him like this-- asleep, exposed. Did he do this with just anyone? Or did Mickey _trust_ Ian, to allow him to sleep in his bed like this? To really see him?

Fact is, Mickey had called him from the club. That meant he was thinking about Ian. Maybe he wanted to hear his voice? Maybe he missed him? He had given up the information of what club he was at relatively quickly, so-- he _wanted_ Ian to show up? Had he _planned_ to make him jealous, somewhere in his drunken mind? And anyway, he clearly wanted Ian there, despite all the randos he could have chosen to go home with instead. Right?

Ian was more and more convinced that Mickey was actually interested in him. Maybe not with quite the same eagerness that colored Ian’s interest, but then again the intensity of his feelings sometimes terrified Ian himself, so it was actually okay if Mickey didn’t feel exactly the same way right about now.

But yeah. As he’d found himself thinking many times before, you don’t go to all this trouble just for some dick. Especially when you don’t even have any way of knowing the dick is that good.

Mickey could have had anyone he wanted in the club last night. He looked so fucking good thanks to those tight jeans, blue and black t-shirt that made his eyes pop and his biceps bulge, and the ridiculously soft-looking hair that you just wanted to run your fingers through. Even being drunk suited him. His eyes were a bit glazed and glassy and they looked especially beautiful under the club lights.

Plus, the man had attitude, which was sexy as fuck. The movements of his eyebrows alone had Ian’s knees buckle, and the way Mickey flirted with him got him going so much he felt like he wanted to scream. He was cocky and confident, and it was just the hottest thing to Ian.

He’d been on the receiving end of Mickey’s powers of seduction several times over the past few weeks, and he was seriously wondering how the fuck he’d been able to resist for so long. He supposed it was down to all that second-guessing and overthinking he was so fond of doing these days.

But Ian knew it was also because he wanted more from the man than just one night of mindblowing sex-- so much more. And he wasn’t going to settle for anything less than everything.

God, the thought that Mickey might reciprocate his feelings to that extent was enough to overwhelm him. It would have filled him with nothing but joy, but the traitorous part of Ian’s mind was unfortunately already at work, scaring him shitless that he might only end up disappointed and hurt if he got his hopes up like this.

Yet the signs were there, right? Mickey _liked_ him, there was no other explanation for some of his behavior.

Ian’s spiraling thoughts were interrupted when the man began to stir. His heart jumped-- he wasn’t sure if it was more because he was excited to actually interact with him or because he felt like a total creep for possibly getting caught watching him sleep for however long. _Huh._ Ian realized he didn’t even know what time it was.

A frown etched in Mickey’s gorgeous features, one eye opening and landing on Ian’s form, quickly closing again. He sort of squeezed Ian’s bicep for a fraction of a second, then retracted his hand. “What time ‘s it?”

Apparently they were both having the same thought. Was Mickey a mind reader? Ian sincerely hoped not, for a variety of reasons. Though he definitely wished he could read Mickey’s thoughts himself sometimes.

“Uh…” Ian turned on his other side to get his phone out of his jeans, which were thrown on the floor by the bed. “8:15,” he read off the screen, registering the information himself. It was still pretty early. It was a Saturday morning, after all.

Mickey groaned and brought his fingers to his face to massage his temples and eye sockets. His pained expression seemed to suggest maybe he had a headache, which… yeah. It made sense he would be hungover as fuck after last night.

Ian already imagined Mickey might be the sort of person to be pretty grumpy in the morning, let alone if he was nursing a hangover. He decided to keep it light with him for the time being.

“So, uh…” He paused. Mickey cracked an eye open and seemed to look at him like the fact Ian was even speaking right now was a personal offense to him and his aching head. “You finally managed to get me into your bed, huh?

Mickey still refused to open his other eye but somehow one was enough to glare at Ian. “Think you’re so damn funny, dontcha, Gallagher?” But Ian noticed one corner of his mouth raise ever so slightly in amusement, and sent Mickey a grin of his own, pleased to be able to lift Mickey’s mood right now.

Ian shrugged as well as he could from his position on the bed. “I don’t _think_ I’m funny. I’m fucking _hilarious_ , for your information.”

Mickey scoffed, but the smallest smile lingered. “Yeah, jury’s still out.” He shut both eyes again.

Ian wasn’t done, though. He reached out his hand toward Mickey’s body over the sheets, trailing a lingering touch with his fingers around the man’s waist. To be a little shit, sure, but also because honestly he craved any kind of touch between them right now.

“You know, you _could_ have your way with me right now, if you wanted,” he purred. “We have a bed, we’re partially naked already, so--”

Mickey snapped his eyes open and scowled at him.

“Have my way with- Who fucking talks like that, man? Jesus.” He sighed, slapping Ian’s hand away from on top of him. “And cut it off with that shit, asshole. ‘m so damn hungover even moving my jaw to talk is fucking painful, but my dick might get other ideas and I’m not in the goddamn mood to deal with that right now.”

Ian snickered and when Mickey glared at him menacingly again, he raised his hands in mock surrender.

He was still having trouble reining in his laughter. “Okay, okay, I’ll cut it out. Sorry.” He gave Mickey his best rendition of an innocent smile. “So. Guessing you’re not in the mood to talk about last night either, huh?”

Yeah, Ian was as far away from being innocent as he could get. He was bringing out the big guns.

Mickey sighed, shutting his eyes again. “What did I _just_ say? Every damn muscle in my face fucking hurts. And no, I especially don’t wanna fucking talk about last night. ‘m paying the consequences for it as it is with this goddamn hangover, not interested in thinking ‘bout it anymore than I have to.”

Ian bit his lower lip. “You do remember everything that happened, though?”

Mickey raised his eyebrows up to his hairline. Ian couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t stopped talking to him, despite how much he said it hurt. Ian didn’t want him to be in any kind of pain, but he did need some answers, and he figured if it was really too much for Mickey he would just tell Ian to fuck off. Which he hadn’t. So maybe he did want to talk a little about last night.

“Fuck d’you think? Don’t you figure I’d’a been at least surprised to see you in my bed if I didn’t remember how I’d even got in it at the end of the night?” He growled, irritated. Then he added, much more softly, “‘Course I remember.” 

Ian just went for it. “Even about asking me to sleep in here with you?”

Mickey groaned, scowl permanently in place. “Jesus Christ, you know what? I take it back, I preferred it when you were trying to get me hard while I’m goddamned hungover.”

Ian couldn’t help but chuckle, and Mickey’s lips broke out in a tiny smile. Ian loved that any tension between them could just be dispersed with a dumb joke or something silly like that.

“Look, don’t mean to be a shit host or whatever, or give you even more reason to think I just wanna use you for sex and throw you away like yesterday’s trash-- not that there’s been any fuckin’ usin’ _yet_ ,” Mickey trailed off, raising his eyebrows. Ian was just endlessly amused by the things that came out of this man’s mouth. “But I ain’t plannin’ on movin’ a damn muscle for the foreseeable future, so it’s probably best if you just let yourself out. I ain’t gonna be very good company like this, anyway.”

Ian smiled warmly in his direction, even though Mickey couldn’t see him, as he’d been intermittently opening and closing his eyes this whole time, and now he refused to open them. Mickey was in pain, but he was still trying to be considerate to Ian instead of just tossing him out unceremoniously. He felt a wave of warmth rushing through him. Ian really, really fucking _liked_ him.

After a few more moments, Ian began sitting up and reaching for his clothes. He had to go anyway-- he needed to get home, scarf down some breakfast and take his morning meds, so this worked out just fine. Plus, poor Mickey definitely needed time to recuperate, and Ian wanted to get out of his hair.

As he was getting dressed, he suddenly got a fantastic idea. Probably the best one he’d ever had in his life.

“Let me take you out tonight.”

Mickey’s eyes snapped open and widened as soon as they met Ian’s. “Fuck you mean, _take me out_? Thought I told you last night, man. ‘m not a goddamn chick.” He scoffed.

“Wouldn’t be asking you if you were. As you _oh, so cleverly_ figured out, I’m just about the biggest cockhound in town.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah, well. Point still stands.”

“ _Come ooon_ , Mickey. Why’re you so scared of a little date? You eat, right? Why the hell can’t we eat at the same table and just talk to each other, like we’ve been doing anyway? What the fuck would be so wrong with that?”

Mickey was frowning and looking down at his closed fist. It seemed maybe Ian managed to make him speechless this time. Maybe he just couldn’t actually come up with a reason not to go out with Ian after all.

Ian decided humor was once again the best course of action, so he could break the tension and put Mickey more at ease with something he was obviously still unsure about.

“Hey, look. I’ll even meet you halfway and fuck you in the alley behind the restaurant right after dinner, if that’ll help sweeten the deal,” he said with as much as a straight face as he could manage.

Hmm. It was meant to be a joke, but part of Ian sure thought it was an interesting possibility, entirely deserving of consideration.

_Keep it in your pants, Ian._

_Until the end of the night, anyhow._

Mickey’s lips broke out into a blissful smile. “You’re such a cocktease, Gallagher. Knowin’ you, the most I’ll get after the first date is a lil’ hand holding.”

“Aww, you wanna hold my hand, Mick?” Ian was having way too much fun teasing him like this.

Mickey just responded with his middle finger up in the air.

“Anyway, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. You might just end up getting lucky tonight, big guy”. Ian sent him an exaggerated wink for added effect, because why the fuck not?

Mickey was frowning. “Eat me.”

“Can do,” Ian offered. “ _After_ the date, though.” He noticed the side of Mickey’s mouth quirking up at that. “Is that a yes, then? That sounds like a yes to me.”

Mickey sighed. “Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll go on a queer-ass date with you if it’ll get you to stop bugging me about it right the fuck now.”

Ian smiled. He smiled _big_. “Deal. I’m on my way out, anyway.” He put his phone in the pocket of his jeans and moved to the doorway. “Anything I can get you before I go? Glass of water, anything?”

“Nah, man, ’m gonna pass out again as soon as you leave. Can get my own water once I wake up, bitch. Stop fucking tryna take care of me.”

 _Never,_ Ian thought. He decided it was best to keep that thought to himself right now.

“Okay, tough guy.” He chuckled. “See you tonight, then. Get your beauty sleep so you can look pretty for me.”

Mickey had already laid his cheek on his pillow, eyes shut and ready to sleep, but he made sure to open them to glare at Ian, then. He lifted his head, angled it towards the doorway and blinked at Ian like he thought he’d lost his damn mind, though he ended up just looking like a confused, sleepy puppy. Ian thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’m regretting saying yes more and more by the minute.”

“And that’s my cue to leave, before you actually change your mind. See you tonight, Mick.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Ian stayed long enough to watch Mickey go back to finding a comfortable position to sleep on the bed. He smiled to himself and closed the door to Mickey’s bedroom behind him.

As he made his way out of the apartment and out of the building, he felt like he was on cloud nine. His cheeks hurt, he was smiling so hard.

Mickey was grumpy as hell, but in a way that was sweet and absolutely fucking adorable. Ian loved the teasing banter that they had going on and couldn’t wait to explore their chemistry further. He bet there’d be fucking electric sparks between them once they actually got physical with each other.

Okay, he probably shouldn’t let himself fantasize any further about them getting physical and stuff like that. Wouldn’t want to pop a boner in the middle of the street, would he? But he wasn’t going to stop riding this wave of happiness that he felt coursing through his veins right now.

 _Fuck_. He had a date with Mickey tonight.

He felt like the luckiest guy alive.

***

Around one PM, Ian was making himself a sandwich for lunch. He spent the rest of the morning doing a little grocery shopping and cleaning his apartment-- just typical Saturday morning stuff for him. Today, though, he was feeling particularly energetic and did all his chores with a huge smile on his face, knowing full well why that was.

God, he couldn’t wait for tonight.

Just as he was ready to take his lunch to the couch and watch some TV, his phone lit up with a notification where it sat on the counter. He frowned a bit wondering who might have texted him.

His permanent grin was back in full force once he saw who the text was from. Ian really wanted to imagine that Mickey only just woke up from his nap and texted him first thing.

 **Mickey 1:09 PM:** You’re such a fucking weirdo, man

 **Mickey 1:09 PM:** Anyway, what time tonight? If you think you’re pickin me up at my place like some bitch you got another thing coming

Ian couldn’t stop smiling. Sure, Mickey was a little crass and disparaging towards the whole dating thing, and a lot of people would have found his attitude a bit insulting at this point, even. But as Ian was getting to know him better -- and as Mickey was opening up to him more -- he thought maybe he understood his stance on things a little better.

Mickey was clearly very new at this, and he had some very specific ideas about how dating and romance impacted on your masculinity. Ian knew the Milkoviches’ reputation from back when he was still living in the Southside, so he had no doubt that Mickey’s nazi, violent prick of a father would have instilled some pretty nasty views in his children when they were growing up.

Ian didn’t even want to imagine the damage an intolerant piece of shit like that could have inflicted on Mickey during his formative years. Both physically and emotionally. He shivered at the thought.

Mandy seemed well-adjusted enough, most of the time, though sometimes when the subject of parents or fathers specifically came up, Ian noticed her flinching and wanting to change the subject as soon as possible. The fucker was dead, thankfully. Shanked in prison a couple of years prior, as Mandy once drunkenly confessed to Ian in one of the rare occasions when she talked about it. Terry Milkovich was nothing but a ghost now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still haunt his kids’ lives long after he was gone.

So yeah, Ian understood. He understood Southside, he understood homophobia and toxic masculinity, and he especially understood the ghosts of the past still tormenting you when all you want to do is get them the fuck out of your head for good.

He definitely wasn’t going to let all that discourage him from getting to know Mickey and have a chance at building some kind of a relationship with him. He liked him. Liked his harder edges and his unconventional attitudes towards things. He liked that Mickey didn’t bullshit him and he sympathized with what Ian recognized as attempts to protect himself through putting up a harsher exterior.

Ian had seen the softer side too, though. And he desperately wanted to see more of it.

That’s why he found himself smiling like an idiot as he contemplated what to write back.

Right at the moment, though, his phone started ringing in his hand.

Mandy. _Shit_.

Irrational panic shot through him like usual, but he tried to quickly get his heart rate down by reminding himself there was no way she could possibly know whose texts he had just been reading. This was just a casual call from his best friend, who was completely unaware Ian was currently thinking in very romantic terms about her brother.

Fuck, what if she wanted to hang out tonight, though? He was running out of excuses and already lied to her about spending the evening with Lip last night. But there was no way in hell he’d give up the chance to go out with Mickey tonight.

He bit the bullet and answered the call, trying to sound as cool and collected as possible.

“Hi, Mands. What’s up?”

“Hey. Nothing much, just got back from doing some shopping. Wanted to let you know I’m busy tonight, in case you wanted us to hang out or something.”

Ian had to try very hard not to let his sigh of relief be heard through the phone. “Oh, really? Got some exciting plans?” He asked as casually as he could manage.

“Yeah, actually. Got a date.”

Ian could hear her smile through the line, and he felt himself smiling, too. God, how he wished he could share his excitement about his own date with her. But unfortunately, at the moment she couldn’t find out about it. Ian couldn’t wait for the day to arrive when he’d finally feel it was appropriate to reveal everything to her, without risking her being too hurt by his deception.

Maybe if she was happy about her own relationship, that could help get her in a mood where she wouldn’t inflict physical harm on Ian and Mickey both for getting together behind her back. And all of it when Ian was supposed to play _her_ boyfriend, instead.

_Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ian._

“Oh, nice! Who’s the guy?”

“A cute barista who flirted with me at the coffee shop this morning and asked for my number. It’s too early to tell if I might actually be into him or anything, but I’m excited.” It was definitely clear from the tone of her voice just how thrilled she was.

“That’s great, Mands, I’m happy for you. You gotta give me the inside scoop about how it went, tomorrow.” Once again, Ian wished he could reciprocate. He hated not being able to confide in his best friend like this.

“Of course! First thing tomorrow. Hope you find something fun to do tonight without me,” she teased.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage,” he smirked. He could give _something_ away, even if he had to stay pretty vague about it. “Might even find _someone_ fun to do.”

“Oh, yeah? You gotta tell me all about it tomorrow too, then. I mean, not the details, ew. But you know.”

She had no idea how appropriate that _ew_ was, considering they were discussing Ian possibly having sex with her brother. He let out a small laugh, feeling almost guilty that she had no idea what was actually amusing him.

“Yeah, gotcha.”

“Anyway, gotta go now. I’m gonna get myself something to eat and then I’m gonna try some outfits on.”

“Sounds good. Hey, good luck on your date tonight.”

“Thanks. Good luck on your hook up.”

Ian could hear the smirk in her voice. He laughed through his goodbyes, “Yeah, thanks. Bye, Mands.”

“Bye, Ian,” she sing-songed, and hung up.

Well. That was something. To be honest the call went better than he was expecting. He had to do very little lying and he didn’t have to make up an excuse for not being available tonight. Plus, he was genuinely happy for Mandy. He sincerely hoped her date went well. He just wished he could share his own happiness with his best friend.

Speaking of the source of his current elation, Ian still had to reply to Mickey’s texts. He opened up the thread and reread them, considering for a minute what time he should tell him and where they should go for their date.

After that, he finally texted back.

 **Ian 1:27 PM:** That’s exactly what I was planning on, Mickey. In case you don’t know, you ARE my bitch now.

 **Ian 1:28 PM:** Will you just relax. We’re just gonna meet in front of the place. You know, like normal people.

After some googling, he sent Mickey a link.

 **Ian 1:30 PM:** Be here at 8. Don’t be late 😉

Ian just about had time to finally bring his sandwich to the coffee table in front of the couch when a text came in.

 **Mickey 1:32 PM:** Do I gotta dress up for this?

Ian rolled his eyes. This cute, exasperating asshole.

 **Ian 1:33 PM:** Look at the link I sent you. It’s not exactly a five star restaurant, Mick. You can dress however you want.

 **Ian 1:34 PM:** I swear it’s all gonna be much less of a big deal than you’re imagining. We’re just gonna be scarfing down burgers and beer while sitting at the same table. No candlelight or flowers involved, I swear 🙄

 **Mickey 1:36 PM:** Alright, alright

 **Mickey 1:36 PM:** See you at 8 then

 **Ian 1:37 PM:** Can’t wait 😏

 **Mickey 1:37 PM:** 🖕

Ian had meant his _Can’t wait_ half as a way to tease him, since Mickey was so skittish about romantic stuff, and half as just… exactly how he felt like right now. He really was excited as hell for tonight.

Mickey’s middle finger emoji was to be expected, but his general attitude towards this date didn’t worry Ian that much. The main thing was, Mickey had agreed. He was going to be there, and Ian imagined that Mickey didn’t often do things he didn’t want to do. He didn’t strike Ian as someone you could get to be at a certain place at a certain time if he could just tell you to fuck off instead.

So that meant, despite his protests and his clear lack of experience at this, that Mickey _wanted_ to go on this date with him.

That thought filled Ian with excitement and hope. Mickey was really putting himself out there, by his standards at least, in order to be with him.

Well. Ian was definitely going to do everything in his power to make it worth his while.

***

Ian stepped out of his apartment building at 7:57 PM, cursing his bad habit of leaving the house way too late when he knew he was going to be walking to his destination, instead of having to take public transportation. Considering the twelve minute walk needed to get to the burger joint, and the fact that he had no intention of showing up sweaty and dishevelled from running there, he was going to be about ten minutes late.

He wondered whether Mickey was going to be there already when he arrived, if he was going to be pissed at Ian and if he was going to complain for having been made to wait for him ‘like a bitch’, or something to that effect. He didn’t mind the banter -- loved it in fact -- but he just really wanted the two of them to have a nice time together. Yes, he knew he was overthinking again.

As it turned out, Mickey _was_ there already, but apart from a small scowl etched into his face, he didn’t seem like he was going to complain about a single thing. Instead, as soon as he spotted Ian arriving he started looking him up and down appreciatively, which immediately proceeded to stir something inside Ian.

He’d missed this. He had enjoyed their previous interaction in terms of their joking and teasing, but Mickey had been pretty much down for the count, given his terrible hangover that likely amplified his usual morning grumpiness about tenfold. He’d spent the majority of time with his eyes closed, and while that gave Ian the opportunity to admire _him_ shamelessly in all his sleepy, sexy glory, it was nice to be looked at that way again.

Those piercing eyes of Mickey’s were already making a fire burn deep in Ian’s belly as he approached, but _goddamnit_ , it was only the start of the night and they weren’t even in close proximity yet.

He couldn’t say ‘fuck it’ and bone Mickey before they even had their dinner, right? Or _could he?_ He lightly shook his head, willing his brain to focus on the ‘date’ part of the night first. After all, _he_ was the one who insisted they do things all proper.

Shit, though, Mickey really was looking good tonight. He’d clearly made an effort, as it turned out. His blue gray shirt was tight on his muscles, his dark jeans fit him to perfection, and that black leather jacket was just sexy as fuck on him. His hair also looked particularly good and soft. Ian couldn’t wait to run his hands through it.

Fuck, this was the night. There was no way he could resist Mickey anymore, and why the fuck would he? Mickey was looking like a damn _snack_ , suddenly making the burgers they were going to be having look much less appetizing than they otherwise would be. Ian was seriously debating whether to go hungry for the night, content on just devouring Mickey instead.

On top of all the rest, the fact that the guy had come to their date looking so especially good was doing funny things to Ian’s heart.

Mickey didn’t _do_ dates. That much had been made clear to Ian. But he was here. He’d agreed to this, he’d made an effort, and he was here looking at Ian like he wanted to eat him whole. Fuck, that sent Ian’s head spinning.

He finally got right in front of the man, who apparently couldn’t stop checking him out for a single second. That is, up until he met Ian’s eyes and smirked his beautiful, sexy smirk at him. Ian was pretty sure he was undressing Mickey with his eyes in the very same way.

Yeah, they were definitely going to have to make quick work of their dinners.

“Hey.” God, his _voice_. Was there nothing about this man that didn’t turn him on?

“Hey.” Ian cleared his throat. He suddenly realized he was a bit nervous, on top of being horny for the man. “You look good.” He thought the statement was probably redundant, considering how he didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off him if his life depended on it, but fuck it.

“You too, man.” Mickey’s eyes went soft and his smirk turned into a gentler smile. Ian couldn’t really explain it, but there was more than simple lust on his face. Mickey looked relaxed. Content. It was a good look on him.

“Um, shall we?” Ian motioned towards the restaurant. He was eager to get this date on the road.

Mickey nodded. “Lead the way.”

And Ian did.

*

After some initial, vaguely stilted small talk before ordering -- _So, burgers any good here? Wanna share a plate of onion rings? Oh, you took the L to get here?_ \-- they seemed to find their groove again once the food (and the beer) came.

Ian wasn’t really sure how, but at some point as they chewed on their -- absolutely delicious -- burgers, they got to the subject of his previous dating adventures.

“So, let me get this straight. He cheated on you, and then tried to pass it off as if it was nothing since he cheated with a woman?”

“Mh-hm,” Ian confirmed. “He made it seem like _I_ was the asshole, you know? Tried to convince me no one is a hundred percent gay and that I wouldn’t have any way of knowing unless I had sex with a woman, too. Well. Fuck. That.”

Mickey laughed a little ruefully. “Yeah, can tell you from experience, man. Being a hundred percent gay is for sure a thing and there ain’t no amount of chicks you can bang to make that any less true. Believe me.”

Ian felt his heart constrict. There was so much pain in Mickey’s eyes, even though he was still trying to pretend like they were just joking around about the absurdity of Ian’s ex’s antics. He felt a pang of protectiveness at that moment. No one should have to go through that, but Ian felt particularly pained at the thought that this beautiful man in front of him was made to deny and be ashamed of his sexuality at one point in his life.

Mickey was clearly growing a bit uncomfortable, so Ian resumed his tales, hoping to shift the conversation back to lighter topics.

“And then of course, there was the guy who took my mom’s side in a fight three seconds after meeting her. He also told me to ‘get over it’, like he knew a fucking thing about her or how she was never there through all of my childhood and only ever came back to fuck up our lives.”

Mickey looked at him for a bit with something that Ian thought was maybe genuine concern. Then his expression softened again. He shook his head and smiled. “Man, you’ve really dated some winners, huh? I got no fucking clue why you’d be such a firm-ass believer in the wonders of dating, with all these dickheads you’ve had to suffer through.”

He had a point of course, but at the moment Ian’s mind was fixated on the present, not on his disastrous dating history. He quirked an eyebrow at him. “Well… this right here isn’t so bad, is it?”

Mickey raised him with a double eyebrow quirk. “I guess the food’s pretty good.”

Oh, Ian was set on winning this battle they were currently engaged in. He was going to get Mickey to admit he was having a good time even if it took him all fucking night to do it. “What about the company?” He pursed his lips.

Mickey’s eyebrows came down from his hairline and he dipped his head a bit, looking at Ian through his eyelashes. “‘S alright.”

As admissions went, it wasn’t much, but Ian wasn’t going to dwell on the words. Not when Mickey was looking that vulnerable and exposed. He was gazing deep into Ian’s eyes, not breaking eye contact and with an intensity that left him breathless.

Ian swallowed the food in his mouth but didn’t break eye contact either. He cleared his throat though, feeling a lump there, suddenly.

“Yeah. I think the company’s pretty good, too.”

*

They finished their meals, paid and made their way outside. There was a sense of anticipation building up in the air between them, like they both couldn’t wait for more. Couldn’t wait to be alone and feel each other’s skin.

That was why as soon as they got outside, Ian took Mickey by his wrist and dragged him to the alley beside the restaurant. He manhandled him and pressed him against the brick wall, one hand firmly on his hip and the other one circled around Mickey’s upper arm. They were both breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes.

Mickey smirked-- breathless, eyes bright. “Finally gonna put your money where your mouth is, Gallagher? So you weren’t just teasin’ when you said you were gonna fuck me in the alley.” He hummed, satisfied.

“I’m not gonna fuck you here, Mickey,” Ian said, pressing himself closer to Mickey.

Mickey’s smirk only grew. “You sure? ‘Cos your body language sure is saying otherwise.” He attempted to roll his hips against Ian’s, but the other man moved back a little.

Ian raised his right hand to Mickey’s face then, slowly. He could see Mickey tracking the movement with his eyes, confusion painted in them, until Ian’s palm landed on Mickey’s cheek, stroking the side of his mouth softly with his thumb.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in an alley,” Ian repeated. “I’m gonna fuck you on an actual bed, either at your place or mine. Probably mine, since it’s closer.”

Mickey still looked confused. A little scared too, maybe. “The fuck you doin’ right now, then? Why aren’t we just goin’?”

Ian looked at his lips, then back into those frightened eyes again. He put the slightest pressure on Mickey’s cheek, his thumb on his jawline, like he was going to tilt Mickey’s face upwards. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Mickey,” he breathed.

The alarm in Mickey’s eyes seemed to increase. He broke eye contact, but his gaze simply dropped to Ian’s lips. He then proceeded to wet his own. “Don’t really do that shit.”

His voice was faintly shaking. Ian’s heart was beating faster and faster. Seeing Mickey so vulnerable, so open under his touch, was really having the most powerful effect on him.

He kept stroking his thumb against Mickey’s skin, grazing the corner of his lips. Mickey’s breath was growing heavier-- Ian could feel its warmth against his face. He could also smell him, they were so close, and it was intoxicating.

“Do you _want_ to do that shit, Mick?” He moved his gaze between Mickey’s eyes and his lips, his breath growing more labored as well. “Do you want me to kiss you right now?”

Mickey was gazing at him with eyes that looked pleading yet uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure if he should beg Ian to go ahead or to stop. Ian watched him look at his lips again, and at that moment, something like abandon and longing entered those beautiful blue eyes. Mickey lifted his head to stare deep into Ian’s green ones and gave the faintest nod.

That was all it took for Ian, who was utterly desperate to join their lips together. Had been all evening-- hell, he’d wanted to do this since he first laid eyes on the man weeks ago.

Ian tilted Mickey’s head back with his hand and pressed his thumb to Mickey’s chin, leaning in to finally kiss those full lips he’d been dreaming about.

Despite having been perfectly aware of what was about to happen, Mickey seemed to startle slightly when their mouths first made contact. He recovered quickly, though, moving his lips along with Ian’s and soon producing a moan that went straight to Ian’s dick, which was already more than a little interested in what was happening.

God, kissing Mickey was heaven. Just like Ian imagined, if not better. All his senses were just screaming _Mickey, Mickey, Mickey_. He tightened his hold on the man’s face with one hand and on his waist with the other.

At one point, he felt Mickey’s hands on him-- after he’d unfairly kept them to himself up until now. One went to grip Ian’s waist and the other to the base of his neck, soon going up to thread through his hair. This was also the moment the kiss turned deeper, as they opened their mouths to each other and their tongues met. Ian felt his knees go weak. It seemed like Mickey was growing bolder and more enthusiastic, and Ian absolutely fucking loved it.

There was barely an inch of space between them, bodies pressed together so they could get as much contact as possible. Before things could get any steamier, Ian broke the kiss, and nearly groaned when Mickey chased his lips with his eyes still closed.

“Fuck… Come on, let’s go to my place,” he breathed against Mickey’s mouth.

Mickey seemed in a daze, so much so that he stammered when he spoke. “Y-Yeah. Fuck yeah, let’s fucking go.”

*

The walk to his apartment was the longest ten minutes of Ian’s life. Probably because it did turn out to be longer than that, as he pushed Mickey down every other alley in order to make out some more. He just couldn’t stop touching and kissing him. There was something really inebriating about every little touch between them, like charges of electricity running through the whole length of Ian’s body.

When they were about two minutes away, while Ian was busy sucking on his neck, Mickey breathlessly asked, “How fucking further is it, Gallagher? Wanna get- Wanna get to the main event.” Ian could hear him grinning, as Mickey grabbed a hold of his hair and pulled a bit.

Ian groaned. “We’re almost there. Don’t worry, ‘m gonna take care of you, Mick,” he said against his neck. He felt Mickey tremble, and Ian himself was feeling a little lightheaded with the intensity of it all.

He tore himself from Mickey only to pull him by the wrist to walk in the direction of his apartment at double the speed.

“Ey, not all of us were blessed with long-ass legs like yours, man. Slow the fuck down!” Mickey was laughing and Ian turned to look at him, slowing his pace. He was even more beautiful when he laughed.

“I’m sure you got pretty good legs, though. Can’t wait to lay my eyes on ‘em in all their glory,” he said with a big grin and his eyebrows raised.

Mickey grinned even bigger. “Fuck off and move your ass, you dick,” he said attempting to kick said ass with his foot, which Ian managed to dodge.

“Yes sir.” Right then, without warning, he darted off running. He immediately looked behind him to see Mickey erupt into another laugh as he shook his head and started hurrying after Ian.

God, Ian felt _so_ good. He felt like a fucking kid again. It’d been a long time since he had this much fun with someone he was about to fuck. No, scratch that. He didn’t think he’d _ever_ had this much fun with anyone who wasn’t Mandy or one of his siblings. Everything with Mickey felt easy, natural, instinctive. Like Ian could be truly himself. It wasn’t something he experienced often.

He felt relaxed, giddy and aroused all at the same time, and it was a heady feeling. He didn’t want to let go of this feeling ever again now that he’d experienced it.

Ian slowed down to a stop right in front of his apartment building. Mickey caught up with him and bent over slightly, panting and trying to catch his breath.

“You’re an asshole,” he said breathlessly, but he was smirking that beautiful smirk again.

Ian giggled, also trying to regulate his breathing. He shrugged. “Never said I wasn’t. Come on,” he said smiling as he used his key to get into the building.

Mickey followed, and again they couldn’t keep too far apart from each other.

By the time they got inside Ian’s apartment, they had resumed making out, and Ian was fumbling with door handles and light switches, refusing to detach himself from Mickey.

They shed their jackets on the floor, attempting to remove the rest of each other’s clothes as Ian somehow led the way to his bedroom.

Once there, now in their boxers, Ian took the opportunity to just slowly kiss Mickey and hold him close, circling his long arms around him. Ian loved Mickey’s smaller frame. He loved the way he could envelop him in his arms and hold the entire back of his head with his palm.

He thought about pushing Mickey down on the bed with a bit of force--he _had_ seemed to appreciate the manhandling earlier after all. But as he broke the kiss and looked at Mickey’s expression, all soft and open, Ian suddenly felt the need to be more gentle than that. He sensed Mickey might need something a little gentler right now, too.

So he just walked him backwards to the bed, the two of them clinging onto each other tight both for balance and to maintain that constant contact they seemed to need just as much as they needed air to breathe.

They fell onto the bed together, Ian on top, and just stared at each other. Mickey didn’t make any moves to speed things up. He stared and stared, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted. Ian was stroking the side of his face, just admiring and contemplating how happy he was feeling right now.

He wanted to stay in this moment forever.

*

He took care of him, just like he’d promised.

He kissed him through it. Went slow at first, then not so slow.

Listened to Mickey respond to his touches, listened to his pleads for more.

Went just about fucking insane with the way he sounded, the way he moved under him.

Ian wanted more, too. Wanted everything, was goddamn desperate for it.

When he finally started moving inside him, Ian swore he’d never felt this way before in his life.

He gazed into Mickey’s deep, blue eyes, pressed his thumb to his bottom lip, kissed him sweetly.

It was crazy-- ridiculous, even.

They’d only known each other for a few weeks, spoken a handful of times, been on just one date. They’d never kissed until tonight, never even touched each other in any meaningful way until a couple of hours ago.

This had to be because they were fucking-- because it was _really good_ fucking. It was probably just the promise of impending orgasm that was making him feel this way, right?

But in that moment -- in that long, perfect moment when they were moving together and nothing else mattered -- Ian thought he felt something like love.

In that moment, he felt like maybe he loved him.

Like maybe this was the person he’d been waiting for his whole damn life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please let me know your thoughts!! kudos and comments are always very appreciated :)
> 
> Mickey POV next time, whoooop
> 
> As always you can find me on [tumblr](https://sickness-health-all-that-shit.tumblr.com/)


	5. Worse ways to wake up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is brave, and he is happy. Things move quickly. Revelations are made.
> 
>  **Excerpt:**  
>  “So, who’s this ‘he’ that’s still at your place, hm? Anyone I know?” Mickey raised his eyebrows and bit the side of his mouth.
> 
> “Mmh, maybe.” He lowered his body back on top of Mickey, who was still looking at him with quirked eyebrows. Ian exhaled a puff of air. “Yesterday I told her I might try to pick someone up for the night, so, you know. I was just confirming that I did end up getting lucky last night. _Very_ lucky.” He leaned in for a quick peck, then another.
> 
> Mickey spoke between kisses, trying to fight off his blush. “That’s hilarious, man. She thinks you’re just with some rando, and here you are slipping it to her brother. You’re not exactly doing a bang-up job of the whole pretending to be straight thing right now, huh?”
> 
> Ian chuckled. “Yeah, well.” It seemed he wasn’t going to add anything else, as he leaned in to the side of Mickey’s neck and bit on it, hard, laving the skin with his tongue right after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for fluff. Lots and lots of fluff. :D

Mickey slowly blinked his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight coming in through the window. While part of his brain attempted to make sense of his surroundings, the rest was just revelling in the pleasant feeling of warmth that was insistently trying to lull him back to sleep.

He hadn’t slept this well in a really long time, but that didn’t mean he was fucking ready to wake up yet. It just all felt so nice.

He was zapped back to consciousness fully and suddenly once he felt a body stir behind him and get closer, tightening the hold of what he now realized was someone’s arm slung around his middle.

Mickey gazed at the arm in question.

 _Ian_.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, an old instinct was begging to kick in. An instinct to flinch, and fight, and shove away. To reject any form of contact initiated with him when he was this exposed and vulnerable, unless it was explicitly sexual in nature. He didn’t let anyone touch him like this, normally. This _intimately_.

Why would he? Why would anyone even _want_ to touch him in any way that wasn’t sexual or violent?

He’d spent most of his life experiencing only those two modes of interaction with people-- anything else was just pussy behavior, or worse, something that could get you killed. Where he was from, anyway.

It’s not like he hadn’t known any kind of tenderness. He hadn’t known much, but he had known some.

His mother had been tender to him when he was a kid. And she had taught her children to be that way towards one another, through _acts_ of love at least, if not actual physical affection. She taught them to protect each other, because she knew that’s all they would have had in the end. _Each other_.

Family was different.

Hell, family itself could bite your fucking hand like a rabid dog even while you’re feeding it-- Mickey’s own father had tried to kill him more than once, for fuck’s sake.

Blood meant nothing. His fucking dad was blood, and Mickey had been metaphorically dancing on his grave since the evil bastard kicked it-- one time even somewhat less than metaphorically, when Mickey was shitfaced and ended up at the cemetery of all places. (He hadn’t exactly danced, but he’d sure as hell pissed on it.)

Point was, _family_ , as he meant it, was a completely different thing.

But a stranger? A stranger was someone you couldn’t trust, by definition.

Mickey didn’t really have friends. People either annoyed the fuck out of him or had ulterior motives they would eventually reveal at some point down the line. He knew that this probably wasn’t a very healthy outlook on life. He knew that people made friends all the time and were perfectly fine and safe and all the happier for it. He wasn’t dumb, he knew all that.

It was just the way you learned to think when you grew up like he grew up. And it turned out it was really fucking difficult to unlearn that shit.

He looked down at the arm again. He looked at the hand. He felt a strong compulsion to touch it, to stroke it tenderly. To interlock his own fingers through those fingers, maybe.

These impulses, these _desires_ , were what he couldn’t wrap his head around. They weren’t what he knew.

He knew sex, he knew pleasure, he knew getting off. _Those_ desires, he accepted a long time ago-- no thanks to his homophobic prick of a dad of course, who did everything in his power to beat them the fuck out of him.

But this… he’d never felt anything like this before. His old instincts were screaming inside him-- crying out about how wrong this was, how he shouldn’t let his guard down because it will only result in him getting hurt, how _this man_ currently wrapped around him will only get him hurt.

Mickey, for his part, just wanted to tell all those instincts to fuck off. To shut the fuck up and leave him the fuck alone.

They were exactly what had almost caused him to lose Ian before. Before even getting an actual chance with him. They had told him to stop being a little bitch, to stop wanting what he couldn’t have, what he _shouldn’t want_. He’d initially listened, and it almost cost him everything. Thank Christ he wised the fuck up and kept pursuing Ian anyway.

Getting his number, texting him, calling him from the club-- not that Mickey was fully in control of his actions with that one. A scared, stubborn part of him had tried to convince him to back out every step of the way, but he simply kept telling it to fuck off, and it all led him here. In Ian’s arms.

So yeah, fuck his old instincts.

He knew what he was doing.

Okay, he _didn’t_ know what the fuck he was doing. He was as new at this as he could goddamn be, but that didn’t mean he was a fucking idiot. He knew what he was getting himself into. Kind of. Well, anyway, he didn’t give a shit, alright?

What he did give a shit about, was the way he felt right here, right now. The way he’d felt last night. He didn’t know if he could put that feeling into words-- he probably didn’t even have them in his vocabulary, or if he actually tried, he’d be forced to sound like a fucking romance novel and, yeah. No thanks.

But he knew it had been the best damn night of his life.

He’d never felt so alive, so wanted, so completely drawn to another human being. It was like Ian was the sun, and Mickey had no choice but to bask in his light, because the alternative would have been to simply die. _Jesus fuck_ , he was getting dramatic. He did say he wouldn’t have the right fucking words for this.

All he knew was he felt better in Ian’s presence. Happier, safer, more excited to be alive.

It’d be just really fucking dumb not to chase that feeling, right?

Mickey just wanted to be as close to him as possible, like they were right now. Ian was pressed along his whole body -- they were fucking _spooning_ for Christ’s sake -- and Mickey could feel his warm breath on his neck. Mickey was goddamn _shivering_. With _pleasure_. This type of thing was all kinds of new to him, but he never wanted these feelings to go away.

It was more than physical-- it felt like a damn spiritual experience or some shit. Though the physical aspects of it had been plenty amazing.

Not that he’d ever actually doubted it, but the man could _fuck_. Mickey was sure the way Ian had teased him and made out with him the whole walk to the apartment until he was ready to explode had contributed to the intensity of the actual fucking-- he’d never done anything like that before, but he maybe sort of understood now why people usually engaged in foreplay. Anyway, the main event had been goddamn mind-blowing, to say the least.

Even if you left out the soft, emotional parts, it had been some pretty fantastic fucking. They seemed to instinctively know what the other one needed and were more than willing to give it. Their bodies fit together perfectly, moving at the same rhythm like they’d known each other all their lives. Mickey’d been wanting to fuck Ian for a long-ass time, and it definitely didn’t disappoint.

But the fact is, he didn’t want to leave out the emotional parts when thinking about it. They were some of what made the whole thing so fucking incredible, as much as it felt weird for Mickey to admit, even in his own head. He was pretty sure Ian had fucking _made love_ to him-- an expression that made Mickey want to punch his own face, but there he was, thinking it.

Ian had been… _loving_ , through it.

And Mickey didn’t hate it. The opposite, really. It was all so damn new, but it just felt so fucking right.

So fuck his old instincts. Fuck his incessant need to protect himself, to tell himself that thinking like this would turn him into some kind of pussy and that he’d regret letting someone in like that. Fuck everything else, if this was what he got to have in exchange. It’d still be pretty damn worth it.

Yeah. Fuck yeah.

As his eyes drooped and he started to doze off again, there was only one thought at the forefront of his mind. One thought that won over against anything else his brain was producing at the moment.

There were definitely worse things than waking up in Ian Gallagher’s arms.

*

He woke up again some time later to kisses on the back of his neck and a hand on his stomach, the thumb rubbing circles on the skin. Mickey kept his eyes closed as a grin slowly formed on his lips. Yeah, this wasn’t a bad way to wake up at all.

Mickey reached behind him to caress Ian’s thigh, pushing his ass back into him and unequivocally letting him know he was awake and very much into what was happening.

Ian trailed kisses up the side of his neck, whispering seductively into his ear, “Morning”. Mickey hummed and croaked a “Mornin’” back to him as Ian dragged his hand lower and lower down his abdomen. Mickey turned his head to look at him and, if he was honest with himself, to ask for a kiss.

When he had told Ian that he ‘didn’t do that shit’ he was absolutely telling the truth. It’s not like he’d never kissed before, but it simply wasn’t a part of proceedings for him when it came to sex. He’d always considered it too intimate, too personal, and why would he waste time exchanging spit with some asshole when he could just get thoroughly plowed instead? Needless to say he didn’t do face-to-face fucking very often, either.

But, as he was increasingly discovering, everything with Ian was just different. Apparently he very much was the kissing type now, considering how he was fucking dying to have Ian’s lips on his own right this second. He suddenly understood all the hype about making out, because yeah, in the right circumstances, it turned out it was pretty damn good.

What was also pretty good was simply looking at Ian’s gorgeous face first thing in the morning. The guy looked glorious, with his messy red hair and sleep-heavy eyes-- Mickey could have spent hours just admiring him. Well, okay, admiring him and touching him and making out with him. Plus all the other fun stuff.

But the look in Ian’s eyes alone was enough to melt Mickey’s insides at the moment. It was so _soft_ , so relaxed. Content. He maybe looked fond, even? Mickey really didn’t know what to do with the thought that he might be anything worth looking at like that. He almost wanted to stop and question Ian’s sanity, if it hadn’t been for the fact that it all felt so damn good. And that honestly, he was feeling pretty fond and soft for Ian, too.

Shit, they barely knew each other. Sure, they’d been dancing around each other for weeks after they’d first met, both too dumb or proud or whatever to just go for it, but they had spent a grand total of one night together so far. Last night. And yet there had been this instant connection from the start, this _pull_ between them that almost felt fucking magical, if you’re stupid enough to believe in that sort of thing.

Mickey definitely wasn’t the kind of person who believes in that sort of thing, but he also wasn’t the kind of person who questions things too much, or wastes time wondering about the whys and the hows and the what ifs. It was what it was, and since for maybe the first time in his life, this was actually a _good thing_ happening to him, he wasn’t going to look too closely at the finer fucking intricacies of it all.

No, he was going to focus on the here and now. For instance, on reaching up a hand to thread fingers through Ian’s hair, bringing his face closer and, after touching noses for a moment, angling his own head to join their lips together. Fuck, every single touch between them was electric, but kissing was for sure the best thing.

Ian soon grew more enthusiastic, cupping the back of Mickey’s head and climbing fully on top of his body. He slid his other hand down Mickey’s side until it reached his ass, kneading one of his cheeks with his huge palm, as Mickey opened his legs wider for Ian to settle between them. He was still a little sore from last night, but he was definitely up for another round. Or two. Or twenty. Well, okay. He was only human, after all.

Just when things were getting interesting, an annoying trill cut through the air. Ian quickly disconnected their lips and looked around like a confused puppy. Mickey was no less stumped, still in a sleep-haze now coupled with a sex-haze that meant his brain needed time to catch up with what his ears were hearing.

“Shit, it’s my phone,” Ian clarified.

Mickey had no clue what time it even was, but who the fuck was calling Ian this early on a goddamn Sunday morning? Whoever it was that had dared interrupt them, Mickey was already planning to murder them slowly and painfully.

Ian reached for his phone, bringing it close to his face and blinking rapidly to focus his eyes on the screen. Mickey watched them widen suddenly. “Holy fuck,” Ian said softly, still half on top of Mickey, who was looking at him with mild concern. “It’s Mandy.”

Instinctive panic shot through Mickey’s veins for a moment, before he remembered he wasn’t a closeted teenager anymore.

Who gave a fuck if his sister found out he was in bed with a guy? Sure, the guy was someone Mandy had introduced to him as her boyfriend, but that actually made the whole thing really fucking funny to Mickey. He’d given her such a hard time about her choice of partner before, and now here Ian was, just seconds away from sticking his dick in Mickey’s ass before she called. He knew Ian had never been her _real_ boyfriend, obviously, but come on, it was still pretty fucking hilarious.

So hilarious, in fact, that he realized he was grinning like a loon right now.

Ian looked less than amused, though.

“Shit, Mickey, what do I do?”

“Well, I’d say answer the goddamn phone. Your stupid-ass ringtone’s drilling through my eardrums, man.”

Ian glared at him.

Mickey sighed. “Look, just fucking answer it and pretend I’m not here. You been lying to her pretty damn successfully so far, right?”

A look of sadness and hurt passed on Ian’s features then, before he nodded and proceeded to answer the call.

Mickey felt bad for him. He couldn’t really begin to imagine what it was like to put this much effort into not letting down a friend, but it’s not like he _wanted_ Mandy to be hurt, either. And it made Mickey’s heart do funny things to see Ian be so concerned for her feelings, trying his best to help her and keep her happy.

He listened distractedly to Ian’s side of the conversation, as the man sat up slightly on top of him.

Mickey didn’t want to be a little shit by doing anything that would risk Ian being discovered by Mandy, but he still felt like touching him in some way. So he started rubbing circles with his thumbs on Ian’s thighs. The touch wasn’t meant to be sexual, just soothing and comforting for them both. Looking up at Ian, Mickey thought it might be doing the trick, as the redhead closed his eyes and was smiling contentedly while talking on the phone.

Mickey was honestly happy that he could help Ian relax in any way. The man was so good, both to him and his sister, but was way too stressed out with this whole thing and deserved a goddamn break. He realized he was staring with nothing short of adoration at the man towering above him in all his naked glory.

Shit, Mickey was _fucked_.

“Yeah? That’s amazing, Mands. I’m happy for you.” Ian _was_ looking genuinely happy and excited, though what he could be that excited about Mickey had no idea. What could Mandy possibly feel the need to share at ass o’clock on a Sunday morning that was so damn important?

Mickey turned his head towards where he’d left his own phone on the nightstand and saw that it was actually past ten already. Whatever. Still too fucking early for a girly-ass chat, anyway.

“Oh, yeah, I, uh- I did end up having a pretty good night last night.”

Mickey whipped his head back around to look at Ian, who was gazing at him all fond again. Shit, he was beautiful.

It made Mickey’s brain go all stupid to think that Ian had had a good night, too. _He_ was the pro at this shit, after all. Mickey’d been afraid he would’ve been shit company and a lousy fucking date, especially compared to all the charming, sophisticated assholes Ian probably usually dated. Him telling Mickey about his _actual_ asshole ex-boyfriends had genuinely been a huge relief for him, helping him relax instantly.

It turned out it didn’t matter that Mickey was new at this. It didn’t even matter that he was absolutely fucking shit at handling human interaction in general. Ian had a good time. There was something between them, something special that was maybe worth exploring. Mickey, for his part, was definitely ready to explore this further.

Shit, was he Ian’s boyfriend now? More to the point, did he _want_ to be Ian’s boyfriend? Was it way too fucking soon to think about this stuff after just _one_ date?

Ah, fuck. His brain was working so hard he felt like he might be sick on the bed sheets any minute now.

“He’s still at my place, actually. Yeah, you might be right.” Ian erupted into a giggle, his head thrown back. “Okay. Yeah, talk to you soon. Bye.” He put the phone on his nightstand and turned his attention back to Mickey.

“So, who’s this ‘he’ that’s still at your place, hm? Anyone I know?” Mickey raised his eyebrows and bit the side of his mouth.

“Mmh, maybe.” He lowered his body back on top of Mickey, who was still looking at him with quirked eyebrows. Ian exhaled a puff of air. “Yesterday I told her I might try to pick someone up for the night, so, you know. I was just confirming that I did end up getting lucky last night. _Very_ lucky.” He leaned in for a quick peck, then another.

Mickey spoke between kisses, trying to fight off his blush. “That’s hilarious, man. She thinks you’re just with some rando, and here you are slipping it to her brother. You’re not exactly doing a bang-up job of the whole pretending to be straight thing right now, huh?”

Ian chuckled. “Yeah, well.” It seemed he wasn’t going to add anything else, as he leaned in to the side of Mickey’s neck and bit on it, hard, laving the skin with his tongue right after.

Mickey groaned. “What’d she want, anyway? The fuck she have to tell you that was so goddamn urgent?”

“She had a date last night and apparently it went pretty well. Sounds like me and her are breaking up soon, anyway.” He breathed a soft laugh against Mickey’s skin, causing him to shiver a little.

“Oh, yeah? So I guess you’re available then, huh?”

Shit. Damn his goddamn mouth. This was not how, or when, he wanted to approach this conversation.

Ian lifted up his head to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed to be studying Mickey’s face closely. “Yep. That’s me, single and free as a bird. Why, you know someone who could be interested?”

Mickey dropped his gaze and bit his lip. “I dunno, man.”

“Hey.” Ian lifted his chin with a finger, forcing him to look him in the eyes again. “I don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush things. We don’t have to do this now. It’s all still so fucking new and we’ve only gone out once. But, um, if you didn’t completely hate the ‘date’ part of last night, maybe we could do it again? I just- I wanna get to know you.”

He looked so fucking earnest and open, and Mickey had no choice but to grab him by the back of the head to bring his lips to his own. He kissed him slow and sweet, trying to pour everything he was feeling into it.

“I wanna get to know you, too, Ian.” Mickey tried to maintain eye contact, despite the intensity of the moment getting almost overwhelming.

Ian looked like he was about to piss himself with joy. It was adorable as shit. “Fuck, Mickey,” he said softly. Then he smiled big and added, “And you called me Ian, so I know you must be serious about this.”

Mickey smiled a little in return. “Fuck off.” He chuckled. No, he did not fucking _giggle_. He was just feeling a little drunk with happiness, alright? “Now how about we get back to where we were before my bitch of a sister rudely fucking interrupted us, hm?”

Ian was still staring at him, that fond smile back in full force. “Sounds like a plan,” he said with a grin, which was short-lived when Mickey suddenly surged up and grabbed him by the shoulders, switching their positions on the bed and getting on top of him.

Mickey pinned Ian’s wrists above his head with both hands. “This okay with you, Freckles?”

The light blush on Ian’s cheeks was absolutely fucking beautiful. “More than okay, bitch.” He smirked. “C‘mere,” he said, lifting his head up and looking straight at Mickey’s lips.

And Mickey went, very much willingly.

***

Mickey did actually manage to pry himself off of Ian at one point and leave his apartment, though it _was_ almost 8 PM when he did. They spent the entire day just lazily making out, stuffing their faces with food, playing videogames and fucking around.

What a perfect fucking Sunday.

They had finally parted ways once they realized they both had to be up early in the morning, and that Mickey should probably get back to his own apartment at some point.

So that’s where he was right now, having just got in, thrown his keys on the side table, shed his jacket and plopped himself on the couch.

He was feeling a little antsy and filled with a weird sort of energy, trying to decide how to spend the rest of his night before it was time for bed. Which was why he was actually glad when Sandy called him and said she was _coming over with pizza and beers, and we’re hangin’ out whether you like it or not, bitch_. Apparently she was missing him. It was true that he’d dodged a few of her calls lately.

Mickey figured he could actually use some company right now. After spending the whole day with someone, he felt kind of weird about being on his own for some reason. Whatever. His cousin’s presence would definitely take his mind off whatever weirdness was bothering him, as usual.

When she showed up with the offerings she promised, it turned out Mickey was right. Sandy had a cool way about her, and this uncanny ability to settle his nerves immediately whenever she was around. The beer was helping, too.

They had almost finished the six pack and nearly destroyed all the pizza while watching some bullshit show on Netflix when Mickey’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Mickey frowned at it, confused as to who could be texting him right now. He picked up the phone and immediately felt the corners of his mouth quirking up, both because of who was texting him and at the texts themselves as they were coming in.

 **Ian 9:17 PM:** Already miss your ass

 **Ian 9:17 PM:** By ass I mean you btw, I miss all of you

 **Ian 9:18 PM:** But also, specifically your ass

Mickey wondered if Ian was also lightly buzzed, like he was, when he decided to type these texts. He’d seen him switch to sodas or water after just one beer before, so clearly the guy had a weirdly low tolerance to booze or some shit. Either way Mickey was glad about it, because the texts were cute as fuck, and were giving him a warm, pleasant feeling in his belly at the moment.

He kind of forgot Sandy was in the room until she piped up, “The fuck you smilin’ like that for, dude? Who’s texting you right now?” There was light amusement in her voice.

“Huh? No one.” He tried to feign nonchalance and put his phone down quickly. He was still supposed to keep the whole thing a secret, right? At least from Mandy. But Sandy could easily blab her mouth to her. Although, she hadn’t said a word about finding out Ian was gay, so… Mickey’s beer-addled mind was struggling to keep up, honestly, but he figured denying everything was probably the best course of action.

He didn’t know if he was quite ready to divulge what he had started up with Ian, anyway. He was still pretty confused about it himself, and frankly he had no idea if talking about it out loud with someone would help or if it would make things even more muddled, especially when he wasn’t exactly sober. So yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to spill the beans to his cousin right now.

Except Sandy had no intention of letting it go, a-fucking-pparently. “Come on, don’t play bullshit little games with me. I’ve never seen you smiling like that while looking at your phone before.” She frowned to herself. “Or ever, actually.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t smilin’ that much. Anyway, it’s probably ‘cos of the beer, it gets to me quick after a long day.”

“What _were_ you doin’ all day, anyway? I tried to call you this morning, see if you wanted to sneak into the game or something, but your phone was off.”

“Nothing, I just… hung around.” Mickey was starting to feel defensive. Sandy was like a dog with a bone.

“Uh-huh, with who?”

“None of your fuckin’ business, alright?” There was no actual heat in his tone, though he was beginning to be a little pissed off. “Just… some guy. A friend,” he corrected himself.

Lot of good that did.

She looked at him suspiciously. “You don’t have any friends. And you don’t _hang around_ with dudes you fuck. So what gives?”

Mickey glared at her, but to be honest he didn’t have the strength to keep lying. And it’s not like he gave that much of a shit if she knew the truth, in the end. Might actually end up being a good thing-- hashing this shit out with someone. Who the fuck knew.

He sighed, exasperatedly. “Fine. But you can’t tell Mandy.”

“What the fuck’s Mandy got to do with it?”

“It’s… kinda part of the secret we’re already keepin’ from her.”

“What? That we know her boyfriend’s into dick?”

Mickey grinned. It’s not like he thought the whole situation was funny. Oh, no. He would never. “Yeah, well. Turns out he’s into _this_ dick, specifically.” He even gestured to his crotch and everything.

Understanding quickly dawned on her. “Mickey, what the fuck?” Her lips were splitting into a grin after the initial shock, though. “You’re such a slut, I can’t fucking believe you!”

“‘Ey, it’s not like he was ever really her fucking boyfriend or anything. He’s just her queer-ass gay best friend or whatever, which is why he’s fucking sworn me to secrecy about this shit. So you know, you can’t tell Mandy.”

Sandy was back to looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Why the fuck do you care so much that he’s sworn you to secrecy? The dick that good that you wanna keep hittin’ that, is that it?”

Mickey considered this. _Here we fucking go, then._ “I mean, yeah, but. We’re sorta, uh… sorta datin’ now.”

“Dating?” She looked like someone just told her that up is down, sky’s fucking purple and pigs can fly. “You don’t _date_ , Mick. You kick guys outta your bed the moment you bust a nut, you’ve always bragged about that!”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled. “Stayed at his place the whole day today, and we weren’t just fuckin’ all the time, either. Though there was plenty of that.” He smirked.

Sandy opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Her voice was much softer when she finally spoke. “So, what? Mandy’s fake boyfriend’s your _real_ boyfriend now?”

Mickey frowned. “We haven’t talked about that shit yet. I dunno. ‘S all still a bit weird for me, and it’s way too soon for all that anyway. But-- yeah. Maybe.”

She nodded, apparently satisfied with what she had heard about the matter. For now, anyway.

Mickey sat up a bit on the couch and not so gently shoved her shoulder, grabbing his phone with his other hand. “Now shut your traphole for a minute, I need to think about what to text him back.”

Sandy shoved him as well in retaliation and proceeded to tease him, “You mean _sext_ him back? Huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows obnoxiously.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said through a smile and a small chuckle, eyes fixed on his phone. Well. It’s not like she was _completely_ wrong.

 **Mickey 9:34 PM:** Miss your ass too

 **Mickey 9:34 PM:** And you know I mean all of you, bitch, since I went nowhere near your ass

Ian’s reply came pretty fucking quick.

 **Ian 9:35 PM:** Maybe next time? 😉

Hmm. Mickey didn’t know if it was just meant to be a joke or not, but was kind of hoping it wasn’t.

 **Mickey 9:36 PM:** I’m game if you are, Gallagher 😏

One thing was sure. He couldn’t fucking wait for the next date night.

***

They didn’t actually end up going out for most of the following week, but they had plenty of ‘stay-in’ dates to make up for it. Almost every night, in fact. It was pretty damn nice.

They just ordered in, watched bad shows and movies, once in a while catching something decent, but mostly just getting distracted by each other’s mouths and bodies anyway. They couldn’t seem to get enough of each other.

Mickey didn’t know if this was normal or whatever, if people usually grew attached so quickly to someone they technically hadn’t known for very long or if it was some kind of miracle that they hadn’t gotten sick of each other yet. And it’s not like it was heaven on earth all the time-- they bickered and yelled at each other, even, getting into stupid arguments and squabbles that usually turned out to be just an elaborate form of foreplay.

Nothing seemed to really turn them off about each other, though. Ian could be annoying as all fuck sometimes, but Mickey ended up just finding it endearing. And he was sure his general crankiness was probably not the easiest thing to deal with, yet Ian sometimes just looked at him with such a fond expression while he was in the middle of a rant that he ran the risk of completely forgetting what he was even mad about in the first place.

They seemed to just get each other. They actually _liked_ each other, faults and all.

On Friday night they went out again, since they were both free for the whole weekend. Ian decided to take Mickey to a gay bar-- the kind of place that apparently he and Mandy frequented all the time, but that wasn’t exactly Mickey’s scene, since it wasn’t technically meant for people who were set on finding a quick fuck for the night. It was the sort of establishment that liked to think of itself as classy, although it very much fucking wasn’t, in Mickey’s opinion anyway.

He ended up having an okay time, but only because he was there with Ian, if you ask him.

What wasn’t all that fucking pleasant was having to watch the goddamn bartender, or mixologist, or whatever the fuck he wanted to call himself, make eyes at Ian every time he presented him with a new drink. Right in front of Mickey, who Ian _clearly_ was with. Mickey had a hell of a hard time reining in his anger. Ian noticed and, laying a hand on his thigh and leaning in close to his ear, assured him he had nothing to worry about, since Mickey knew exactly who Ian was going home with at the end of the night.

It was weird. Weird but nice. The way Ian could get him to calm down and just breathe like that. In different circumstances, the guy would have definitely gotten a fist to the face for his troubles, but there was no need. Mickey and Ian were together and there was no one who could stand between them. They only had eyes for each other and to them it felt like they were the only two people in the whole damn bar.

They drank, they talked about silly shit, they laughed a lot, they made out a little. Mickey felt lightheaded and carefree, like he didn’t normally allow himself to.

It was a really good fucking night.

They came in through the door of Mickey’s apartment at nearly 3 AM, laughing their heads off like the couple of pleasantly drunk assholes they were. They had their arms around each other as they stumbled their way to the bedroom, where they proceeded to fall down gracelessly on the bed. They were definitely in no shape to fuck tonight. It was a miracle they managed to remove most of their clothes and get under the covers.

Ian was apparently feeling more chatty than sleepy at the moment, though. “I don’t do this a lot, you know,” he exhaled, face mostly squashed on the pillow, dopey smile half visible to Mickey.

“What, get wasted in gay bars and _not_ end up bangin’ someone?” Mickey snickered like he had just made _the best_ joke ever.

“No, I mean--” He took a deep breath. “I mean _this_. Like, you think I’m some sort of pro at the whole dating thing, but I’ve never had anything that was this intense before. You and me, we-- We’re seein’ each other almost every day, we do all kinds of fun shit together, and I _like_ you. That shit’s not the norm for me.”

Mickey felt his heart constrict in his ribcage at Ian’s words. He had wondered if this was all normal for Ian, if he’d had this same sort of thing with tons of guys before Mickey. If this was special or not.

He smiled, reaching to run his fingers through Ian’s messy hair. “Okay, tough guy. I hear ya. Why don’t we both get some sleep now, huh?”

Ian nuzzled his pillow, the words sounding muffled when he spoke. “Yeah, okay. Night, Mick.”

Mickey chuckled, scooching over on the bed until they were sharing the pillow, and leaning in for a second to kiss his temple. “Yeah. Night, Ian,” he replied softly.

***

It was almost noon by the time they resurfaced from sleep. They had ended up both on their sides, facing one another, legs tangled together and arms thrown around each other in a loose hug. Mickey had his forehead pressed against Ian’s chest, while the taller man’s face was buried in his hair. Mickey felt Ian waking up when he took a big inhale right on top of his head, ribcage expanding with air.

“Hmm. You smell good,” Ian mumbled sleepily.

Mickey weakly snorted. “Like the way I smell, do ya? Fuckin’ weirdo.” But he was grinning so big and pressing so close into Ian, that there could be no mistaking how he actually felt about what was happening. “How’s your head feelin’? You good?”

Ian grunted in response. “‘S not so bad, I’ve had worse. You?” He nuzzled into Mickey’s hair and Mickey burrowed deeper into his chest.

“Same with me. Don’t think I drank _that_ much last night. Just feelin’ a little wiped out. Wouldn’t mind stayin’ in this bed the rest of the day.”

“Fine by me. Though I guess we’ll need food at some point.”

“Fuck, forgot about food.” He paused. “Eh, we’ll worry about that shit later.”

They fell silent for a while, both still chasing a little bit of sleep. After a while Ian must have started feeling more awake, though, considering he moved away the tiniest bit and spoke again.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“What’s up?” Mickey mumbled.

“Tell me something about you I don’t know yet.”

Mickey snapped his eyes open and tilted his head back to look at him. He could immediately see an intensity in Ian’s eyes that had him grow curious. It didn’t scare him, though.

“Like what?” He wasn’t just going to dive in, although as it happened, he did have something he’d been meaning to share in mind.

Ian dropped his gaze. “I dunno… I just feel like we're already so comfortable together, but there’s still so much we don’t know about each other. It’s not just that I wanna get to know you-- I want you to know _me_. All the fucked up parts of me. I guess there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you and it’s… not the easiest thing to talk about. I’ve been kinda working up to it.”

He looked serious, and more than a little vulnerable. Mickey was getting pretty good at reading him, after all this time spent closely together the past week. It was true that there was a lot they didn’t know about each other yet, but they knew each other in the ways that counted.

He nodded, deciding to reveal something he’d been maybe too embarrassed about to tell him up until now. He sighed, “You know when I told you I remember you? From before?”

Ian frowned in obvious confusion. “What, from the Kash and Grab?”

“Yeah…” Mickey rubbed at his lower lip. “I kinda-- Jesus fuck, this is fucking embarrassing.” He took a deep breath. “I kinda watched you. Not in a creepy-ass way or whatever. Or maybe it was, I don’t fuckin’ know. I mean, I was a fuckin’ teenager myself, only like a year older than you, so maybe that shit was normal. Fuck knows. Never fuckin’ knew how to be a normal kid, anyway.”

He briefly looked up at Ian midway through his ranting to see his reaction. He was sporting a curious expression, like he was eager to hear where Mickey was going with this.

Mickey sighed again. “I guess I _was_ a little obsessed with you. Always coming into the store when I knew you were working. Stealin’ shit just so you’d notice and maybe chase after me or something.”

Ian was gaping at him, clearly shocked at the revelation. “Shit, Mickey, I had no idea.” He looked into Mickey’s eyes, studying him, his expression slowly morphing.

And then he started cackling.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, you prick!” But Mickey was sniggering softly, too. He could never resist Ian’s infectious laugh, anyway.

“I’m sorry, but it’s really fucking funny! It just doesn’t track with the image I have in my mind of a young, terrifying, badass Milkovich thug. Like, at all.” It seemed like he couldn’t physically stop himself laughing, as much as he might try to.

“Well, it’s not like I went around havin’ fucking ridiculous crushes on just anyone, man.”

Ian finally managed to simmer down to a light chuckle. “Oh, so I was special then. Glad to hear it.”

“Fuck you, you were special.”

“And I mean, that was my awkward phase, Mick. You were into me when I had bangs and way too long limbs and was basically just one giant freckle! I can’t fucking believe it, this is hilarious.” He was giggling like a little kid, by this point.

“Shut up, I like your freckles,” Mickey grumbled.

“Aww.” His grin was blinding, and as usual Mickey felt that warm feeling in his ribcage at the sight. He really did like this annoying asshole of a man.

Mickey returned serious pretty quickly, though. “Anyway, I kinda gathered there was something going on between you and the prick who ran the store.” He chanced a look at Ian, who visibly clenched his jaw at this. Mickey continued, “I should’ve done something. Besides regularly beating his ass, I mean. Like, I dunno, anonymously reported him or something. But anyway, you were gone soon after.”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, I couldn’t really stand that whole thing anymore. His wife found out and it got even more fucked up after that. I just had to leave. Wanted a fresh start, you know?”

“Yeah, man, I get it. Thought about leaving the neighborhood plenty of times myself. Just figured that life was all I knew, though. Didn’t know how to be anybody but my piece of shit father’s son for a long time. Was really only able to be free of his bullshit once he croaked it, and thank fuck for that little miracle.”

Ian’s eyes softened and he reached up a hand to cup Mickey’s cheek. “That sounds fucking rough, Mick. I’m so sorry. I wish I knew you back then, maybe we could’ve been there for each other somehow.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah, no. Trust me, you wouldn’t’ve wanted to know me back then. You were definitely better off.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Ian’s lips slowly broke into a grin. “I’m pretty sure I’d have been instantly smitten with you, if you’d only made a move.”

“Fuck off. You’d have fuckin’ shit your pants if I’d made a move.”

Ian was back to giggling obnoxiously. Mickey actually loved that sound, if he was honest with himself. “Can’t believe you had a little crush on me. That’s so cute.”

Mickey grumbled, “Jesus Christ, I knew I shouldn’t have fuckin’ told you that.”

Ian stopped laughing, but kept smiling. “I’m glad you told me.” Then his expression turned serious. He looked like he was gearing up to say something.

It took a couple of minutes for Ian to actually speak, and the tension was starting to suffocate Mickey. But finally, Ian seemed to find the courage. “I’m bipolar.”

Mickey was at a loss, to say the least. “Bi-what? What’s that mean?” He didn’t know if Ian was expecting him to know what that meant, but he was seriously drawing a blank here.

“I have bipolar disorder. It means my moods cycle through really high highs and really low lows over and over again. Like, I can feel on top of the fucking world for a while and have insane amounts of energy, but then I’ll crash and won’t be able to get out of bed for weeks.”

Ian was giving him all this information in a pretty matter-of-fact way, but Mickey could sense how much talking about this with someone affected him. Mickey, for his part, was still pretty damn confused. He was trying to wrap his mind around everything.

“But-- You haven’t been like that when you’ve been with me. You’ve been, I dunno, stable or whatever.”

“I’m on meds. They’re not like a miracle cure or anything, but they help. Need to get them readjusted sometimes.”

Mickey frowned, thinking. “So like, you’ve lived with this for a while?”

Ian nodded. “Few years now. Wasn’t easy at first, but I’m managing it pretty well these days.”

Mickey still had a lot of questions, but he felt like they could wait. All he needed to know was that Ian was taking care of himself and that he was okay, all things considered. He nodded. “Got it.”

“Got it? Is that it?” Ian looked dumbfounded.

“What d’you want me to say, man? I’m glad you told me. Now I know. I mean, obviously there’s so much shit I don’t know about this, but I want to. I wanna understand.”

Ian exhaled roughly. “It’s just- Sometimes people get scared when they find out. Sometimes it’s a deal breaker for them. Which is why I tend to keep it to myself until I can trust they won’t freak the fuck out on me and just bail.”

Mickey scowled. “Why the fuck would someone bail over this? You can’t help it, it’s a goddamn condition, right? You’re the one who has to live with it, what fuckin’ business is it of other people if you have this or not? You’re still you, so it shouldn’t fuckin’ change the way people feel about you.”

Ian looked astonished, his lips trembling a little. “Mick, that’s- Thank you. Just… not everyone reacts so well to this.”

“No need to thank me, Gallagher, just sayin’ it like it is. Those guys who made you feel like shit about this were just dicks. And I’m not saying I’m not a dick, just… not _that_ much of a dick.” He smirked. He thought they both could use a break from the heaviness of the moment.

Mission accomplished, apparently, since Ian’s lips split into a grin. “I know you aren’t.” He reached up to stroke Mickey’s cheek again. “In fact, you’re a pretty sweet guy, Mickey Milkovich. You might have a reputation to uphold, but I know your secret now. Behind the tough exterior, you’re actually all soft and gooey in the middle.” The grin had turned shit-eating by now.

“Who the fuck are you callin’ soft and gooey, huh?” Mickey tried to keep the scowl going, but he was betrayed by his smile.

“You, ya big softie. I mean, you used to be sweet on me even when we were fucking teenagers, apparently. Bet you drew little hearts with my name in them in your diary or something.”

That was it. This was war now.

Mickey shoved him over, quickly getting on top of him and straddling his waist while pinning his wrists to the bed. Ian let out a puff of hair and looked like he wasn’t in any way opposed to this turn of events. He was looking deep into Mickey’s eyes, biting his lip a little.

“What about now, tough guy? Still think I’m fuckin’ sweet?” Mickey was really trying to look stern, but a smile was threatening to break out on his lips. And yeah, it would probably be a dopey-looking smile. He was so gone on this motherfucker.

Ian looked absolutely fucking blissed out, in the meantime. “Yeah, Mick. I still think you’re sweet,” he said softly.

Mickey had no choice but to just lean down and kiss the fuck out of him.

Yeah, okay. Fuck his reputation, fuck his old instincts, fuck anyone who thought they had any shit to say on the matter.

So maybe Mickey _was_ sweet on one Ian Gallagher.

He wouldn’t change that fact for anything in the fucking world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! Let me know in the comments ❤
> 
> Kudos and comments make me smile 😌😊
> 
> Also come talk to me on [tumblr](https://sickness-health-all-that-shit.tumblr.com/) <33


	6. Best laid plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandy has a brilliant(?) idea. Ian is anxious. Mickey is sweet. Everything comes to a head.
> 
>  **Excerpt:**  
>  “Hey, look. I know you don’t wanna fuckin’ hurt her precious ass, but she’s gonna find out eventually. Alright? You can’t stop that happenin’, and it’s not like if you just take her aside and blurt the whole thing out to her she’ll be less pissed at you, right?”
> 
> Ian looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “If this is your way to try and make me feel better, you’re doing a pretty shit job of it.”
> 
> Mickey smiled a little, “Shut up.” Then he got serious again. “I’m just sayin’, maybe it’s better if it happens when we’re all there. We’ll help contain the fuckin’ damage or whatever. Talk her down, explain it to her. I’m sayin’ you won’t be on your own. I got you, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surpriiiise :D I took an unscheduled long break from this, but I'm back, everyone!! I really am fully intending to finish this story. Hope this update makes up for the wait :))

“So how’s it going with your new man?”

Mandy immediately lit up. It looked like she was blushing a little, too. “It’s going pretty great, yeah. I mean, I don’t wanna jinx it, and it’s way too soon to tell if it’s gonna go the distance, but yeah.”

She was smiling big and hopeful, and Ian loved seeing her like that. “I’m happy for you. You deserve it, Mands, especially after all the shit luck you’ve had in the past.” He grinned warmly at her.

She pursed her lips and smiled back a little shyly. “Thanks. Hey, you know I could always try to set you up with someone if you want? I think Matt mentioned having a close childhood friend who’s gay.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, which made Ian fear she might already be busy planning his future wedding to this guy. She sometimes got like this, all keen and virtually unstoppable, once she got it in her head that she was going to set him up with a guy.

What Mandy didn’t know of course, was that Ian was very much not available at the moment. In fact, he sort of had a boyfriend-- they hadn’t exactly formally discussed the terminology yet, but they sure as hell were exclusive and at this point spent the majority of their free time together, seeing each other nearly every day and constantly texting the rest of the time.

Ian definitely _wanted_ him to be his boyfriend. Already considered him that, because in all the ways that counted, that’s what they were to each other.

He was easily the most important person in Ian’s life, besides his siblings and Mandy, and often the first one he felt the need to vent to when something pissed him off, or to share something funny with that he saw on his way to work, for instance. These sort of things, Ian figured, were the sign that his feelings were growing deeper and deeper each day. It was all so intense and exciting, and every time he thought about what they had he just felt really fucking happy. He had something truly special in his life and he wasn’t going to take that for granted.

The only problem, in all of this, had to do with the person standing right in front of him at the moment. His best friend. His sort-of-boyfriend’s sister. Who had been kept in the dark about everything, since the very beginning. She had been lied to for weeks now, not just by Ian, but by her whole family, too.

Ian sometimes wondered what her reaction would be once she found out the truth. He imagined hopeful scenarios, where she’d just be genuinely happy for them, but he wasn’t kidding himself. He knew she’d likely feel like they’d all made a fucking fool of her, lying to her face for weeks and going behind her back instead of just fessing up immediately.

That was exactly what had happened, after all. She would be entirely justified in feeling betrayed-- by the people closest to her, no less. In the moments when Ian’s anxiety spiked up the most, he couldn’t help but feel like a piece of shit who fucked up this whole thing right from the start. And sometimes, the happier he felt having Mickey by his side, the more the guilt ate at him, and the more convinced he got that there was no way out of this mess that could save Mandy from getting hurt.

Ian forced himself to get out of this spiral for the time being. He had to quickly interrupt Mandy’s reverie about setting him up with her new guy’s maybe-gay-childhood-friend. Ian had guessed this kind of situation might happen, and had already prepared himself to tell her something vague about his unavailability for dates at the moment.

“That’s really nice of you, Mands, but, uh-- I’m actually kinda hung up on someone right now. We hooked up a few times, and I don’t think he’s interested in me beyond that, but I can’t really get him out of my head, so.”

Mandy gaped at him and punched him in the shoulder once she recovered from the shock. “You fucker! You never said anything about this before!”

“Well, there’s nothing much to tell. I guess I have a crush on him or something. I’m trying to see if maybe it can go somewhere, so you know, not really looking to date anyone else right now.”

There. That should get her to back off. Ian knew she meant well, but clearly, he didn’t need help finding a boyfriend-- or a sort-of-boyfriend, whatever. And sure, Mandy had technically been the one who introduced him and Mickey, so she technically did help him in that sense, but that wasn’t the point.

“Okay, got it. But my offer still stands, in case things don’t work out with this guy and you need to take your mind off him or something.”

Ian smiled. “Sure. We’ll see how it goes. Thanks, Mands.”

“Don’t mention it. You know I want you to be happy too, right?”

Ian’s heart constricted in his chest. Fuck, he hated lying to her. He so wanted to be able to tell her he _was_ in fact happy. He forced another smile. “Yeah, I know.” Okay, time to change the subject. “So, you gonna go out with Matt for your birthday next week? He taking you to dinner?”

Mandy frowned. “Ugh, I’ve been thinking about that. We’ve only been on three actual dates... I just think it’s too much pressure to spend my birthday with him already. You know, I’m actually trying to take things slow with this one.” She grinned.

“Yeah, that’s probably smart.” He grinned back.

“Plus, I always celebrate with my family. It’s a bit of a tradition. Me, Iggy, Mickey and Sandy get together and spend the whole night drinking and talking shit. And I haven’t seen them in a while, now I think about it.”

Yeah, Mickey had mentioned not having hung out with Mandy in a bit. Then again, his time _had_ been very much occupied by Ian, lately.

“I was thinking I could hang out with them on Friday on my actual birthday, and go out with Matt the next day, so it’ll be a regular night and it won’t be too much pressure.” She nodded to herself. “Ah fuck, but I also wanted to spend time with _you_ on my birthday! I mean, we’ll see each other all day Friday here at work, but I actually wanted us to do something fun together to celebrate. Remember your birthday, back in May? That was the best fucking night, I swear to god. It was such a blast.”

Ian nodded, grinning happily. He definitely agreed-- he and Mandy always had so much fun on their nights out on the town together. “I know, it was fucking epic. But look, we can totally hang out the week after. It’s not a big deal, Mands.”

Mandy shook her head. “No, it’ll be too late then. I wanna celebrate my actual birthday with you. You’re fucking family to me, Ian.”

Shit. She couldn’t just throw around stuff like that. Obviously he felt the exact same way about her, but all this was going to do to him now was pile up even more guilt on his already heavy heart. He just smiled gratefully, unable to bring himself to say anything back or he might just end up breaking down crying on the spot.

She looked pensive for a few moments. “Wait. Why don’t you just come with us on Friday?”

Ian was at a loss. “What, with your family?” His heart rate started picking up.

“Hm-mh. You ended up having an okay time when we hung out with Sandy, Mickey and Iggy before, right?”

Ian gaped at her. “Um, sure. But we were also pretending to be a couple in front of them. And the last time you said I’d never see them again.”

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t have to do that shit anymore. I mean, we’d have to pretend to be exes who stayed friends, but that’s it. I told them you and I broke up and that I was seeing someone new, though they haven’t met Matt yet, thank god.”

Ian’s brain was working overtime to keep track of all the lies. “They all still need to think I’m straight though. I’m still gonna have to lie about being gay.”

“‘Course, but you’ll be alright. Sold them on it the last time, right?”

Right.

Fuck.

“I dunno, Mandy. I won’t exactly be able to relax if I’m gonna be pretending all night.”

“I know it’s not ideal, but it’s just for one last time, I swear. And I’m sure it won’t be that bad, I remember you getting along great with them once we all started talking and drinking and stuff. You seemed to actually like them.”

Yeah. She really had no idea just how much Ian liked one of them in particular.

Fuck, how was it all going to work? It was bad enough having to lie to her on a daily basis, mostly by omission, but to actually be in Mickey’s presence and to have to pretend there was nothing between them? To spend the whole night surrounded by three other people who _know_ , while they all have to continue trying to keep Mandy from finding out they do know? It was a fucking recipe for disaster, somebody was bound to slip up.

He must have zoned out for a bit, because Mandy spoke again. “Hey, it’s just a thought, okay? If you don’t think you’re up to it, I’ll understand. I just really wanna spend my birthday with the people I care about the most, and that definitely includes you.” She smiled at him softly.

Well. There was really no escape, huh. Ian was going to feel like a piece of shit either way, whether he decided to go or not.

“I’d love that too, Mands. You know I feel the same way.”

“I know.” She smiled affectionately, then it turned into a devious smirk. “Plus, come on. It was pretty fuckin’ funny the last two times watching them try to figure you out and trip us up. And when you told me Mickey was checking you out... God, it must’ve fucking killed him to think you were straight and he couldn’t have you. Wouldn’t mind seeing that with my own eyes.”

She erupted into a laugh, but Ian couldn’t really bring himself to join her. Fuck, she just had everything _so_ fucking wrong, didn’t she. It was almost heartbreaking, really. And it filled Ian with even more anxious worry about how the fuck he was going to handle the whole thing.

Okay. The first thing to do was talk to Mickey about it. He would probably offer a different perspective and somehow convince Ian that everything would go okay, that he had nothing to worry about. He had a way of relaxing Ian’s nerves with his mere presence, and could talk him out of his spiralling thoughts in no time, usually.

Yeah, he could relax. It wouldn’t be so bad.

*

“Are you kidding me? She’s definitely gonna fuckin’ find out about everything.”

Ian glared at Mickey, who was busy stuffing his face with Chinese food and for some fucking reason looked adorable in the process. Ian tried to stay focused on being indignant about what he’d just said, though.

“Fuck d’you mean? Why are you so sure she’s gonna find out?”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up his forehead while he took the time to chew, looking at Ian like he was an idiot. After he swallowed his food, he explained, “Come on, man. You gotta know it’s a fuckin’ disaster waitin’ to happen. We’re all gonna be there, someone’s gonna spill.” He paused, contemplating. “Probably fuckin’ Iggy, if I had to put money on it.”

“You really trust him that little? He’s your fucking brother! I don’t know, tell him to be careful and keep his mouth shut or something.”

“Have you _met_ Iggy?” Mickey shook his head and laughed a little. “Guy ain’t got the brainpower to lie all through the night, man. Especially wasted. I’d have to pay him a fuckload of money to make him even care enough to try, and I ain’t got that kinda dough.”

Mickey kept eating voraciously, while Ian was losing his appetite more and more by the minute. “Well, wouldn’t he do it to spare Mandy’s feelings, at least? He can’t be that cold-hearted.”

Mickey snorted. “Are you kidding me? ‘Spare her feelings’, that’s hilarious. That’s exactly _why_ he’ll spill the fuckin’ beans on the whole thing, just to embarrass the fuck out of Mandy and make her feel like a dick. It’s just how it is in our family.”

Ian tried to think if in a similar situation he and his siblings would behave in the same way. They certainly liked to tease each other and give each other a hard time, but this felt different to him, somehow.

Maybe it was just the guilt eating away at him for lying to Mandy for so long, and the thought that if she found out, _he_ would be the one she’d be pissed off with the most. Especially given what Mickey was saying about their family, she’d probably expect it from them, but she’d expect more from Ian. And she’d be right to. He was really letting her down with all of this.

He must have spaced out, because he looked up to find Mickey gazing at him with concern in his eyes, as he finished chewing up his egg roll.

“Hey, look. I know you don’t wanna fuckin’ hurt her precious ass, but she’s gonna find out eventually. Alright? You can’t stop that happenin’, and it’s not like if you just take her aside and blurt the whole thing out to her she’ll be less pissed at you, right?”

Ian looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “If this is your way to try and make me feel better, you’re doing a pretty shit job of it.”

Mickey smiled a little, “Shut up.” Then he got serious again. “I’m just sayin’, maybe it’s better if it happens when we’re all there. We’ll help contain the fuckin’ damage or whatever. Talk her down, explain it to her. I’m sayin’ you won’t be on your own. I got you, okay?”

This time Mickey was _definitely_ doing a better job of it. Not that Ian felt that much better about the situation, exactly, but he was feeling all kinds of things for Mickey at the moment, his words going straight to Ian’s heart. He was grateful and beyond happy to have him in his corner. He knew Mickey had his back, no matter what happened, and that instilled a great deal of calm in him, which was more than welcome at a time when his anxiety wanted so badly to send him over the edge.

Which was why he reached his hand towards Mickey’s cheek, intent on caressing it tenderly in a gesture that would convey all his gratefulness and his fondness for this wonderful man. Maybe he would then also smooch him a little. But Mickey didn’t quite let him get there and slapped Ian’s hand away before it could arrive at its destination.

“What the fuck, man?”

“I was just tryna touch your face, Jesus!”

“I know you were tryna touch my fuckin’ face, that’s why I fuckin’ stopped you! You’re not smearin’ that greasy paw all over my cheek, you dick. You were pickin’ up egg rolls with that same hand not two minutes ago, look at the fuckin’ state of it.”

Ian grunted, grabbing a napkin to wipe the grease from his hand. “Geez. You try to do something tender and romantic and this is what you fucking get.”

“Yeah, well, be tender and fuckin’ romantic _after_ you’ve washed your filthy-ass hands, please. Not lookin’ to have a fuckin’ grease imprint on my cheek, thank you.”

Ian tried to keep a stern expression on his face, but it soon turned fond. That didn’t mean Mickey wasn’t going to get what was coming to him, though.

Before Mickey could react, Ian smeared the greasy napkin all over his cheek, nose and mouth. He then sat back on the couch, watching Mickey’s reaction with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Mickey slowly turned towards him, a murderous look in his eyes that softened the tiniest bit once he laid his eyes on Ian’s amused face.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Ian’s grin didn’t falter. In fact, he felt like he was two seconds away from bursting out laughing. “Mh-hm,” he replied.

Mickey nodded slowly, looking down, then quickly launched himself towards Ian, getting him to land with his back on the couch cushions. Ian found himself with his wrists pinned on top of his head, Mickey hovering above him. They seemed to end up in this position pretty damn often, and Ian wasn’t complaining one bit.

They stared at each other intensely for a minute, then a playful smirk grew on Mickey’s face. “I think you should get a taste of your own medicine, tough guy.” He leaned down to nuzzle his face to Ian’s, proceeding to cover his cheeks and nose in grease as well.

Ian just started laughing uncontrollably, moving his head from side to side to stop the attack but it was no use. Mickey started snickering too, on top of him, their bellies rumbling with laughter against one another.

Soon the laughter subsided, Mickey released Ian’s wrists and started kissing him. “You’re such a dick,” he murmured against his lips, as Ian took advantage of his freed arms to wrap them tightly around Mickey’s body.

Ian hummed into the kiss, agreeing. “We should definitely take a shower after this.” He didn’t know whether he meant after they were finished with their meal. He didn’t feel like eating right now, anyway.

“Yeah. After,” was all Mickey replied as he continued locking his lips with Ian, slipping a little tongue in, teasing.

As Ian just surrendered to the feeling of Mickey, he contemplated, not for the first time, how everything was just better with him around. Mickey _always_ managed to make him feel better, safer, happier. Always in his own special way.

‘I got you’, Mickey had said.

And Ian believed him. He believed him with everything he had.

***

Friday night of the following week, there Ian was. Back in front of the Alibi again, a little over two months since that fateful night when he and Mickey had met for the first time. Well, if you don’t count their rare interactions as kids around the neighborhood, which Ian constantly wished he could remember better than his idiot brain allowed him to.

Tonight, Ian was going to meet with the very same people as that first time, though some pretty fundamental things had changed since then.

Little did he know, two months ago, that one of those people would end up getting to be so important to him, in such a short amount of time. Would end up becoming his sort-of-boyfriend-- Jesus, they probably needed to actually talk about this at some point.

Mickey was the person who these days Ian went to the most for comfort, fun, encouragement-- anything, really. For everything he might need, Mickey always seemed to be there to help him, and Ian hoped he represented the same for him in return.

Mandy, in the meantime, had gone from someone who Ian kept very few secrets from, to a person he now lied to on a daily basis, despite the aching need in his chest to share the new joys of his love life with his best friend. He wanted to tell her how grateful he was, since without her basically introducing them, his and Mickey’s paths would have probably never crossed again. Instead here he was, ready to continue with the lie he’d been feeding her for weeks and weeks now.

The other Milkoviches he had tried to fool, those times he met them in this same place. But they were all in on the truth now, which meant four people here tonight would have to keep up the pretense just for Mandy’s sake. Mickey had talked to Iggy and Sandy-- who as it turned out knew a hell of a lot more than just the basic fact that Ian was gay and had never actually been Mandy’s boyfriend. They knew him and Mickey had been seeing each other, and although Ian had initially gotten pissed at Mickey for not keeping a better lid on that particular secret, he wasn’t mad, really. He just feared it would complicate the situation even further. As if it wasn’t complicated enough already.

Anyway, apparently Sandy and Iggy had reluctantly promised to be on their best behavior-- after some mild threatening on Mickey’s part, no doubt. It was clear to Ian that Mickey meant it when he told him ‘I got you’. He might not be one hundred percent onboard with the fact that Ian was still _so goddamn worried_ about Mandy’s potential reaction -- as he made sure Ian was aware of on several occasions -- but he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that tonight went as smoothly as possible, simply because this was important to Ian.

Ian loved him a little bit for it-- though he was trying to stay away from such thoughts even in the privacy of his own head, for fear that three scary little words directed at Mickey might just come out of his mouth one day without him being able to stop them. He definitely felt it by now, but he was desperately trying not to rush things.

Despite the circumstances, he was glad to see him tonight. Sure, they wouldn’t be able to be completely themselves and act like they normally would around each other, but Mickey’s mere presence was going to feel reassuring to Ian, he was convinced of it.

All right, he really couldn’t put off going in any longer. Once again, it was showtime. Only this time, Ian was going to have to put on a performance for Mandy and Mandy alone.

He could do this. At the end of the day, he was still doing it all for her. Mandy wanted him to be here tonight and here he was. Even if that meant he would have to lie to her face the whole night.

Jesus, what a cosmic fucking joke.

*

“Hey, you made it!”

Mandy dashed towards him as soon as she spotted him entering the Alibi, throwing her arm around his neck and smooching a loud kiss on his cheek. It would appear they had stayed _very _good friends after their supposed ‘break-up’, because this was even more overtly affectionate than Mandy usually was with him. It seemed strange that she thought this was the best way they could sell the whole thing to the others.__

__Once Ian looked her in the eyes, though, he could see that she was already a little tipsy. Ah. “Hey yourself. You started the party without me?” He smirked._ _

__She pursed her lips. “Just had a few beers, that’s all. I mean, it is my fucking birthday, right?” She grinned brightly at him._ _

__Ian smiled. “Damn right it is, birthday girl. You deserve to have all the fun in the world tonight.”_ _

__Mandy surged forward and hugged him again, speaking against his neck. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ian.”_ _

__He chuckled. “Yeah, me too, Mands.” He looked up from her shoulder and immediately made eye contact with Mickey, who had apparently been watching them from where he was standing at the bar. They exchanged quick smiles and fond looks, before Ian extricated himself from Mandy’s arms._ _

__When he laid eyes on her again, she was all smiles and giggles-- it was really nice to see her so happy and carefree. “Come on, let’s go say hi to the others.”_ _

__Ian nodded, took her outstretched hand and followed her to the booths._ _

__Fuck, he really hoped this would be a good night-- with no accidents and zero casualties, emotionally speaking._ _

__*_ _

__“Ian, you remember Iggy and Sandy, right?”_ _

__“Yeah, of course. What’s up, guys?”_ _

__They both raised their beers in greeting as they clearly tried to contain smirks and quirked eyebrows in his direction. Great. This was going to be a long night._ _

__“Oh, and Mick. You remember Ian, yeah?”_ _

__Ian hadn’t even noticed Mickey coming to join them at the booth, and had a bit of a panicked reaction when Mandy suddenly addressed him with that question. Jesus. He really needed to find his cool somehow, he was way too tense at the moment._ _

__“‘Course I do. Your ex boyfriend, right?”_ _

__Mickey looked right at him when he spoke, with a barely-there playful smile that nobody else probably would have noticed but that Ian was too familiar with not to. He sent a quick glare in return. Ian was most certainly _not_ feeling playful tonight. He needed to keep his head in the game._ _

__“Here, man, got you a beer. Since I was getting one for myself.”_ _

__Ian felt his face soften at the way Mickey looked at him then. Goddamn Mickey. Ian would have a hell of a hard time not just grabbing him by the collar and kissing him silly at some point during the night, he realized._ _

__“Thanks,” he mumbled shakily. He reached for the bottle and their fingers brushed when he took it from Mickey. He felt fucking electricity coursing through him at the contact. _Goddamnit_. How could this man still have that powerful an effect on Ian with just a light touch of their fingers?_ _

__Ian looked to his left and saw that Iggy and Sandy had been watching the small interaction, with twin shit-eating grins on their faces. Ian bristled. They seemed to be enjoying this far too much._ _

__Sandy moved her gaze to Mandy and seemed to only now notice she had her arm locked with Ian’s and her head resting on his shoulder. She took a sip of beer and hummed. “You guys sure look pretty chummy for two people who broke up recently.”_ _

__Ian glowered at her, and felt Mandy simply shrug beside him. His friend didn’t seem to be interested in putting that much effort into keeping up appearances tonight, too focused on being relaxed and having a good time to care. Not that there was any use in pretending, anyway. But Mandy didn’t know that._ _

__“I told you, we stayed friends,” was all she offered as an explanation._ _

__“Hmm, I dunno, Mands,” Iggy piped up. Ian didn’t know what he was going to add, but he already wanted to throttle him. “I mean, I could never be all fuckin’ buddy-buddy with any of the girls _I’ve_ banged. Would definitely never be _that_ fuckin’ chummy with any of ‘em, that’s for sure,” he concluded pointing to Ian’s and Mandy’s general direction with the neck of his beer bottle._ _

__“That’s just ‘cause you’re a dick, Igs. You’ve never had a female friend in your whole damn life, and all you got is drinkin’ buddies, anyway. What do you know about actual fuckin’ friendship?” She snickered, finding the concept highly amusing, it seemed._ _

__Well. Mandy could definitely hold her own with these guys, no doubt about that._ _

__Iggy sneered and raised his middle finger at her. “I’m just sayin’, that ain’t how dudes and chicks normally are with each other after a fuckin’ break-up. And you’re tellin’ me your new man would be fuckin’ peachy with this shit if he saw it?”_ _

__“Don’t you worry about Matt. He’s not a fuckin’ Neanderthal like you, Iggy.”_ _

__“Probably ‘nother homo, that’s what he fuckin’ is,” Iggy mumbled under his breath, though Ian managed to hear him loud and clear. He widened his eyes and watched Mickey do the same, right before he elbowed his brother sharply in the ribcage._ _

__“Ow, motherfucker!” Iggy complained, but shut up quickly once he saw how Mickey was glaring at him._ _

__They all looked in Mandy’s direction with various degrees of subtlety to see if she had heard, but she appeared to be too busy gulping down more of her beer. “Hm, what’d he say?”_ _

__“Nothin’, Mands, don’t worry about it. Just Iggy bein’ Iggy, talkin’ shit.” Mickey reassured her, sending another stern look his brother’s way._ _

__Ian quietly sighed in relief, thankful for Mickey’s evasive actions and for Mandy being already too wasted to pay much attention to Iggy mumbling hints as to the truth about what the rest of them all knew._ _

__But Ian’s relief was short-lived, when Sandy spoke again. “Why did you two lovebirds break up, anyway?”_ _

__If looks could kill, Ian would have disintegrated her on the spot with the one he sent her. After the potential disaster they had just averted with Iggy, this was the last thing Ian needed. And he expected better from Sandy, for some reason. She sent back an expression that was probably meant to feign innocence, but Ian didn’t let up his glare._ _

__“I dunno, guess we realized we were better as friends. These things happen, y’know?”_ _

__Ian was aware that Mandy was doing all the talking, everytime one of them asked questions about their relationship, but he just couldn’t find the strength to speak. He was _not_ feeling in control of the situation, and he was far too busy worrying about them just blurting out everything to Mandy to actually form words._ _

__And he wasn’t done having a reason to worry quite yet._ _

__“Hm, I get it. So the sex wasn’t that great, huh?”_ _

__Ian _so_ wished he could wipe that shit-eating grin from Sandy’s face, but he was powerless to do anything but stare menacingly at her once again._ _

__To his surprise, Mandy’s reaction this time was to snort and then erupt in a full belly laugh._ _

__He snapped his head towards her, somehow feeling irrationally offended that their non-existent sexual activity was being put into question and ridiculed like this._ _

__Mandy seemed to laugh even harder when she noticed his expression._ _

__“Mandy!” Ian just thought it didn’t fucking look great for her to be laughing her ass off like this when asked about their fake sex life._ _

__“I’m sorry,” she managed to say once her laughter died down a little bit. “It’s just, she _has_ a point.” She smirked playfully at him, like they were the only two people who were in on the big secret. _Oh, Mandy._ “Let’s just say we weren’t really... compatible in that department.” She started laughing again, like she just said the single cleverest, funniest thing ever._ _

__Ian slumped in his seat a bit, turning to look towards Mickey, who, to his shock and outrage, was also grinning like he was barely containing his own laughter._ _

__Mickey locked eyes with him, looking anything but apologetic. “Oh, come on, tough guy. You don’t gotta take that as a fuckin’ comment on your prowess in general. I’m sure people you _are_ compatible with would be pretty damn satisfied by your performance in bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows, licking his lower lip slowly, and Ian almost felt fucking dizzy._ _

__From the corner of his eye, he could see Iggy and Sandy roll their eyes at the display, but honestly, fuck them. They were making his life hell tonight, so they could fucking stand to witness a little harmless flirting between him and Mickey._ _

__Not that Mickey himself was making things all that easy for Ian at the moment. But when he looked and sounded like that, well. Yeah. Mickey could have a pass._ _

__It was high time to put a stop to the torture, though._ _

__“O-kay... could we maybe change the fucking subject away from my presumed sexual prowess and talk about something else now?” He was smiling, trying to keep a light atmosphere going and pretend like he was simply a little embarrassed to be discussing such personal things and being at the center of attention._ _

__Mandy suddenly lit up like she just had a brilliant idea. “Ooh, guys! I know! Let’s do shots and get really fuckin’ hammered. Come ooon, let’s celebrate my goddamn birthday, people! Whoooo!”_ _

__Ian wasn’t sure that was the best idea, but he was glad for anything that would distract from the previous conversation. “Hell yeah, let’s celebrate!” He turned his head and yelled, “Kev! Can we get some motherfuckin’ shots for the birthday girl over here, please?”_ _

__*  
As it turned out, Mandy would end up doing most of the shots herself, making the chances of her discovering anything even lower than they were previously. Which is probably why at one point during the night, Mickey grew bolder._ _

__They were all around the pool table, at the moment mostly watching Sandy beat Iggy’s ass game after game after game -- he kept begging for a rematch every time he lost -- when Ian suddenly felt Mickey’s hand on his ass._ _

__“Mick, the fuck are you doing?” Ian whispered, trying not to let Mandy, who wasn’t standing that far away from where they were, hear them._ _

__“Relax, Gallagher, she ain’t gonna know shit. Look at her, she’s fuckin’ hammered already.”_ _

__Ian eyed him suspiciously. “Look who’s talking. You always get extra handsy when you’ve had one too many. And anyway, I still don’t think we should push our luck.”_ _

__Mickey pursed his lips and sighed. “You’re no fuckin’ fun, man.” He removed his hand and seemed to have given up for the next few minutes, before he went on the offensive again. “Come ooon, let’s just lock ourselves in the john and at least fuckin’ make out a little bit, while she’s distracted.”_ _

__It was true that Mandy seemed to be fully enthralled by the game of pool, whooping and hollering and cheering Sandy on, all while ruthlessly making fun of Iggy. But Ian still thought it was better not to risk it._ _

__“No, Mick, we shouldn’t. She might still figure something out.”_ _

__This time Mickey put his hand on the small of Ian’s back, massaging there a little. He leaned his hip on the pool table, turning to look Ian up and down, then staring into his eyes from under his lashes. “Come on. I miss you,” he said softly._ _

__He was basically batting his eyelashes at this point, and it was then that Ian knew he had lost his battle. Mickey knew exactly what he was doing, Ian was perfectly aware of that, but he was still powerless to do anything but give in to him, then._ _

__Ian leaned in close to his ear, basically growling, “Meet me there in two minutes. Miss you too, you dick.” He then proceeded to make his way to the bathroom, already impatient for Mickey to join him._ _

__It was risky as fuck-- Mandy could realize they were both gone at the same time and start asking questions, if nothing else._ _

__But who was Ian kidding? It was also hot as fuck, and he was growing more and more aware that, when it came to Mickey, he was willing to do pretty much anything for one more second of bliss with the man._ _

__*_ _

__They did little more than just make out in the end, but Mickey was just so eager and willing that Ian simply had no choice but to comply. Ian emerged first, hoping he didn’t look as disheveled and blissed out as he felt. He kept his distance from Mandy for a few minutes, just in case, and went to have a chat with Kevin at the bar, instead._ _

__A couple minutes later he spotted Mickey coming back to the pool table to join the others, and locked eyes with him for a few seconds. He was so lost in it that he got startled when Mandy suddenly came bounding towards him and shocked him out of his reverie._ _

__“Hey, handsome!” She grinned big, her eyes unfocused. “Okay if I crash on your couch tonight? Your place is way closer and I don’t feel like draggin’ my ass back to mine. Plus I might’ve had a _teensy bit_ too much to drink.” She started giggling and going ‘Shhh’, with a finger over her mouth, like it was a big secret only the two of them were in on._ _

__He smirked at her. “Nah, you don’t say?” Then he laughed and gave her a warm smile. “‘Course you can sleep at my place. You about ready to go, then?”_ _

__She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Feel like I might fuckin’ barf or pass out any minute now.”_ _

__“Yeah, okay, then it’s time to go,” he said firmly. It was getting pretty late anyway, the bar wasn’t going to stay open for that much longer. “Listen, I’m just gonna go say bye to the others, then we can leave.”_ _

__“Look at you bein’ all nice an’ friendly with ‘em, sayin’ goodbye like the polite little boy you are.” Mandy giggled some more and tried to ruffle his hair._ _

__Ian responded with a middle finger and a smirk, pleased to find she immediately turned her attention to Kev instead of following him to the pool table._ _

__Once there, Ian tugged Mickey’s arm gently and spoke once the shorter man was looking at him. “Listen, I know we said you were gonna spend the night tonight, but Mandy just asked to sleep at my place.” Mickey immediately looked disappointed, and Ian knew he was probably sporting a similar expression, too. “We’ll make up for it tomorrow night, I promise.”_ _

__Mickey’s lips broke out in a bright smile. God, he was beautiful. “Okay, Gallagher, don’t sweat it. Go be a good guy and stop my drunk ass sister from doin’ anythin’ she might regret in the mornin’.”_ _

__Once again, Mandy came out of fucking nowhere and was somehow suddenly standing between them. “What’s up, homos?” Realizing what she just said, she widened her eyes and tried to correct herself, in the _subtle_ way only a drunk person can. “I mean _homo_. I mean, Mick! You know what I mean!” She visibly sighed in relief and started snickering, clearly convinced she had successfully narrowly avoided a disaster by implying Ian was gay, too._ _

___Oh, Mandy._._ _

__Ian and Mickey exchanged a look. “O-kay, well, I think that’s our cue to leave. Come on, birthday girl, time to go.” He stirred Mandy towards the exit by the shoulders, while they both shouted rushed goodbyes to Iggy and Sandy and Ian nodded toward Mickey one more time before turning around to finally leave._ _

__Ian allowed himself to sigh in relief. The night had been full of small incidents and near catastrophes, but it was over now, and Mandy remained as clueless as ever. Sure, Ian still felt like a piece of shit for lying to her, but as he led his best friend to his apartment to spend the night, he could only think how glad he was that the crisis had been averted._ _

__*_ _

__Mandy passed out pretty much as soon as they entered Ian’s place, face down on the couch and out of commission until Ian woke her up the next morning. She was obviously experiencing the mother of all hangovers, but Ian knew that once she felt better she’d come to realize that just meant she had a fantastic night._ _

__Apart from a small surge of panic when Ian saw that one of Mickey’s shirts had somehow ended up on the side of his bathtub and he had to quickly make it disappear -- there were other things of Mickey’s around the apartment, but thankfully nothing recognizable as his was outside of the bedroom -- getting Mandy out of his place in the morning also went smoothly enough._ _

__Just before she left, though, she made a passing comment about the night before, “I don’t know what you were so worried about, last night went great. You know, they usually don’t take well to new people, but they clearly like you, I can tell. Mickey, especially. I mean, whenever you guys were talking he had this huge goofy smile on his face.” She paused to let out a chuckle. “I think he might have a big ol’ crush on you. So funny though, considering he doesn’t even realize you play for his team.”_ _

__Ian had to somehow force a weak laugh. “Ha. Yeah, maybe. Yeah, they’re alright, really. Definitely not as scary as I thought at first.” He tried to divert the conversation to the group in general rather than focus on Mickey too much._ _

__“Yeah, I mean, come on, they’re not any scarier than _me_ , right?” She smirked._ _

__“Let’s put it this way, it’s pretty obvious you guys are related.”_ _

__Mandy fake-gasped. “You fucker! Take that back!” She punched him in the shoulder for the affront._ _

__Ian put his hands up in surrender and started laughing._ _

__Yeah._ _

__The Milkoviches weren’t half bad, actually._ _

__He was falling for one of them, after all._ _

__***_ _

__The next night Ian decided to take Mickey out to dinner to a place where they did Italian cuisine-- nothing overly fancy and definitely well within his price range, but he wanted them to treat themselves and spend a more romantic evening for once. He was getting sappy like that. Or maybe he always was. Whatever._ _

__He also maybe kind of wanted to approach a certain subject tonight. He wanted them to define what they had. The thing was, he wanted to refer to Mickey as his boyfriend. Not that he really talked to that many people about him-- he had mentioned him to Lip and Fiona, who were a little shocked to hear Ian was seeing him, since they remembered Mickey from way back when. But he was tired of feeling like he couldn’t even use that word in his own head._ _

__So Ian was going to ask tonight. Ask Mickey if he was comfortable with calling themselves _that_. Boyfriends. Ian really hoped he would say yes._ _

__He decided to just go for it while they were sitting at the restaurant table, waiting for their food to arrive._ _

__“So, uh… I was wondering, what do you think I should call you? You know-- when I mention you to people?”_ _

___Yeah... real smooth, Ian._ _ _

__Mickey looked at him like he grew a second head. “I dunno… ‘Mickey’? Fuck does that mean? And who’re you mentioning me to, anyway?”_ _

__“I don’t know… my family… just people, generally. It can happen. I’m just wondering, uh, what we are to each other, I guess.”_ _

__Mickey frowned, studying him attentively. After a while, a corner of his mouth pulled up in a half smirk. “Ah. Now I see what you’re askin’”._ _

__Ian got even more nervous. “You do?” he asked expectantly._ _

__“Why don’t you just come out and ask what you wanna ask, man? It ain’t a bad word. The world ain’t gonna end if you say it.”_ _

__Ian opened and closed his mouth, speechless. He felt more and more ridiculous and honestly a little blindsided by Mickey’s reaction to the topic of discussion. He just really hoped they were thinking of the same word._ _

__“Um, I dunno, guess I thought maybe you’d be uncomfortable with it. You know, considering your whole attitude to datin’ and all.”_ _

__He couldn’t look Mickey in the eye as he spoke for some reason. He really didn’t know why he was acting so sheepish all of a sudden. This was Mickey. He always felt relaxed with Mickey._ _

__“Yeah, but I damn sure changed my attitude to a lot of fuckin’ things ever since I met you.”_ _

__Ian’s head whipped up at that. He’d heard the smile in his voice, but he needed to see Mickey’s face to be sure. What he found was nothing but fondness, and a little amusement, too. Which, fair enough. He knew he was being a bit of a dummy._ _

__“Mick…” Ian couldn’t really add anything else. He just reciprocated that fond look, because that’s exactly what he was feeling at the moment. That and so much more._ _

__Mickey cleared his throat and dropped the eye contact momentarily. “So, no need to beat around the damn bush with this. I’m your fuckin’ _boyfriend_ , that’s what you’re gonna tell people about me. Especially dudes that might be sniffin’ around tryna get into your pants and shit.”_ _

__Ian couldn’t help the big grin that spread out on his lips. _Boyfriend_. Mickey didn’t seem to have a problem with the label, seemed _proud_ to call himself that, even. Ian knew it was stupid, but in his mind this made things between them even more real. Like-- it was official. Mickey was his boyfriend and he was Mickey’s._ _

__Ian was just really fucking happy._ _

__“Alright, alright, wipe that stupid grin off your face. Man, as if you didn’t fuckin’ know already. You really think I’d let a fuck buddy take me out to dinner like this? Think I’d wear this fancy-ass shirt for just fuckin’ anyone?”_ _

__Ian chuckled. It _was_ a pretty nice shirt. He really did like it on him. “Okay, yeah, I know,” he nodded, looking down at the table. Then he looked up into Mickey’s eyes again. “It’s just nice to actually… know. You know?” He cringed at his choice of words and tried again. “It’s a big deal to me, Mick. You’re, uh… you’re really important to me.”_ _

__If Ian didn’t know any better he’d say he saw Mickey’s eyes go a little wet and his lower lip tremble slightly. The man sniffed and lightly bit said lip, then started shaking his head and grinning brightly. “You’re such a fuckin’ sap, man.”_ _

__Ian grinned back just as big. “I know. Sorry. Promise I’ll stop with the sappy shit. For now.” He smirked at Mickey, who looked at him dubiously. Just then Ian saw their waitress coming. “Hey, I think that’s our food. That’ll keep my mouth busy for a while, anyway.”_ _

__“Thank Christ. At least I won’t have to watch you fuckin’ dancin’ around a subject like a damn awkward puppy anymore.” Mickey smirked, amusement clear in his tone._ _

__Ian grew a smirk of his own. “You love it.”_ _

__Mickey dropped the teasing and looked at him earnestly, then. “I do.”_ _

__Ian felt his breath caught in his throat. Honestly, thank god for the distraction of their food coming right then. Or he would have probably just melted into a puddle on the spot, thinking about the implications of Mickey’s words and his beautiful, open face when he’d said them._ _

__*_ _

__They got out of the restaurant laughing their asses off, amused as hell after overhearing a silly argument a couple were having while they were paying for their dinner. Ian had his arm slung over Mickey’s shoulders, looking down into his bright eyes as they both managed to rein in their laughter a bit._ _

__Mickey looked a bit drunk, even though he hadn’t had more than two beers all night. Ian thought that maybe he was drunk on the very same emotions he was currently feeling high on._ _

__“What you lookin’ at, huh?” Mickey asked through a smile._ _

__“Nothin’. Just my boyfriend.” Yep. Ian was going to take any and all opportunity to use that word now. Fucking sue him._ _

__Mickey shook his head but his smile didn’t falter one bit. “Man, you’re just never gonna stop bein’ an annoyin’ little shit about this, are ya?”_ _

__“Nope. Never.” Ian leaned down to kiss his boyfriend’s lips sweetly. He just felt so fucking happy. He idly mused that nothing could ever or would ever top the way he was feeling right now. Just absolutely, one hundred percent, wholly content and at peace. Like everything was falling into place and the universe was finally smiling at him._ _

__But then, in the space of a moment, the blissful feeling was taken away from him._ _

__“Ian? Mickey?”_ _

__Dread quickly crawled its way up from Ian’s heart to his throat, as all his muscles suddenly felt frozen and stiff._ _

__He knew that voice._ _

___God, please, don’t let this happen. Not now._ _ _

__It was no use._ _

__Ian detached himself from Mickey’s lips and let go of him, letting his arms fall to his own sides. He slowly turned around to see Mandy, standing there on the opposite side of the street, a puzzled and pained expression on her face._ _

__Ian barely registered the presence of a guy beside her -- part of his brain unhelpfully supplying that it was likely Matt, the guy she’d been seeing -- or the car parked in front of them that they were apparently just about to get in when Mandy spotted him and Mickey._ _

__The only thing that Ian could focus on was the way Mandy was looking at him. The confusion. The anger. The unanswered questions. The betrayal._ _

__It was everything Ian had feared she would feel once she discovered the truth, only multiplied tenfold, because this was so much worse than he’d anticipated. She was never meant to find out like this. To see them together like this with her own eyes, without Ian having a chance to explain first. A chance to tell her himself. Prepare her for the truth. Assure her they never meant to hurt her or make a fool of her._ _

__Instead there was no time. There wasn’t time for explanations or excuses. Mandy’s expression in that moment would forever be carved in Ian’s brain, but he didn’t get to see it for more than twenty seconds. After that, she was gone._ _

__She got inside the car before he could even react, and then when he did try to go after her, Mickey had to physically restrain him because the vehicle had already peeled off the curb and Ian was basically walking into oncoming traffic._ _

__But he didn’t care. All he cared about was that his friend was hurt, and _he_ had been the one to hurt her. She was going to hate him and she’d have every right to. He felt like the biggest piece of shit to ever live. He was terrified of losing her forever._ _

__He sensed Mickey’s hand on his cheek, turning his head gently so that Ian would look at him. “Hey, hey. Ian. It’s okay. We’ll talk to her. She’ll understand. Okay? There’s no need to panic. I got you, alright?”_ _

__Yes. Mickey got him. It was the only thing in that moment that allowed Ian to take a big breath, nod a little and look deep into Mickey’s eyes, feeling his own prickle with tears._ _

__They got this. He believed that much._ _

__It was going to be alright._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos and comments are hugely appreciated <33 I love hearing from you guys 😌❤
> 
> also you can come talk to me on [tumblr](https://sickness-health-all-that-shit.tumblr.com/) <33


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